Masks Dyed Red
by RocksAndGuns
Summary: A battle of time and fate plagues the hearts of those trapped in this hellish hospital. This abandoned hospital is the host of horrendous experiments with the most powerful nations of the world acting as the test subjects of a twisted captor. No one knows his face nor his name. Cannibalism, corruption of souls, and crushing spirits are all a part of his plan to conquer the world.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One: The Beginning of the Worst**

 **Warnings: Blood, violence**

 **Unknown POV**

I hate them. I hate them all. I've always been cast aside and I never said a word. I've been neglected by the ones that I thought had loved me, but this will end today. No longer will I accept my pitiful loneliness. The nations of the world will remember my name and cower in fear when I make an entrance. They will bow to me, their one true king, and regret every time that they ignored my words. I will reign supreme! I will be the strongest nation in the world!

I've already gained some strength on my own. No one ever realized that I had magical abilities, which I'll be using to my advantages. I've strengthened my magical powers immensely. At this point, I should be stronger than those other nations with powers. Now, I just have to use them for my own benefit.

There is a world meeting today and I plan to take action. If everything goes to plan, I'll be able to kidnap the strongest nations of the world and bring them to the abandoned hospital that I cleaned up for them. One by one I'll break them, torture them, end their lives, and take their land for myself! It's perfect!

Now, all I have to do is put on my clothes and sneak into the building. I've managed to get past the guards plenty of times. I'm surprised that they don't know that I memorized the building's layout, the positions of the guards, and the ventilation system. It's just something you have to know if you want to sneak in.

I stand up and walk to my closet. After sifting through my clothes, I found the outfit I made. I took out the outfit and slipped on the black bodysuit first. It fit perfectly and covered my entire body from the neck down. Next, I put the ski mask on over my head. Just to be certain that my face would be unrecognizable, I also put a plastic Halloween mask on my face. The mask I'm using is very popular with people who want to keep their identity hidden while stating their opinion online. If I'm not mistaken, those people are part of a group called Anonymous.

Whatever, I'm rambling. I grab the thick brown cloak I made and drape it over my shoulders. The hood is very baggy and almost covers the mask. The cloak is also long on me and just barely touches the floor. I slip my arms into the long sleeves of it. Now that I've done that, I pick up the black gloves and put them on my hands. They are a perfect fit so I guess you could say _they fit like a glove_!

I laugh at my joke and continue on. I open up my drawer and put on my socks. Afterwards, I slip on my black boots. Finally, I grab my voice changer and put it inside my mask.

"Testing, testing," I said. A deep scrambled voice was omitted. No one would be able to recognize me. Just to be certain, I use my magic to make myself a bit taller. Only enough to make my identity unreadable. Now that my outfit is done, I have to put my supplies in my pocket.

I turn to my drawer and pull out the necessary things I need for my plan which included a baseball bat, rope, and other necessities. Once I pull out everything I need, I put it in the many pockets inside of my cloak. I'm finally ready for the meeting.

They'll never be able to figure out who I am.

I step out of the door and head for the meeting place, ready to enact my master plan.

England's POV

The meeting will be beginning soon, or at least that's what Germany has been saying for the past hour. Our spring break is over so we're all even more irritable than usual, which has caused some senseless arguing. I can't say I'm not a part of the senseless arguing though since I spent the first twenty minutes fighting France. Then again, we are always at each other's throats during meetings. It's funny how this is the same man that I raised the boys with. Of course we still had our petty disagreements back then, but we still had our love for each other and the kids. Now, we're just sour ex-husbands.

I still kind of care for him, but not like before. I wish we could settle things and return to the way it was before. We are different people now, so I doubt we'll ever be lovers again. He has changed and I have changed as well. If only I still had the loving man from before.

"Everyone shut up!" Germany yells, snatching me from my thoughts. "We haven't started the meeting and there are already fights, which is incredibly unprofessional! We are adults here, so I expect all of you to act accordingly!" All of the fighting nations ceased their pointless bickering and sat down. "Now, if everyone is here, we can begin."

Currently, Germany, Japan, Italy, America, France, China, Russia, and I are here. I can't help but think that someone is missing.

"Wait, dudes! Canada isn't here!" America shouted.

"You're right, America. Should we wait a few more minutes before beginning?" Japan asked. Germany nodded.

"I'm sure he'll be here in a few moments," Germany said.

Quietly, the door cracked open. That must be Canada. I turned around to the door. Why didn't he just come in? Is he waiting for someone to let him in?

"You can come on in, bro!" America said.

The door swung open and was quickly slammed shut. A man in a brown cloak had entered the room. He had a strange outfit along with a mask. He uttered something under his breath before he stepped closer to us.

"Who are you?" Japan asked, concerned about the mysterious stranger.

Instead of replying, he reached into his cloak for something. Instantly, I pulled out my gun and pointed it at him. Several other nations did the same.

"Answer the question, weirdo!" America aggressively shouted at the stranger. "I'll shoot if you don't comply!"

"I'm Canada," the stranger said in a robotic voice.

"I don't believe that! Prove yourself!" America yelled at the man.

"Let me pull out my ID," the man muttered, reaching into his cloak.

"No! I don't trust that!" I exclaimed. "What if he's reaching for a gun?!"

"Sir, pull of your mask!" Germany roared. The man quickly put his hand into his coat and we all fired instantly. Instead of the bullets hitting him, every single one deflected off of him. It was as if his entire body was bullet proof!

"What the hell?!" America screamed. The man finally pulled out the thing he wanted, a baseball bat. It looks familiar, but I can't quite figure out why.

Before I had time to think, he sprinted to America and swung his bat at America's head with great strength. Immediately, America fell to the ground unconscious, maybe dead. It's hard to tell.

Italy screamed in terror. Germany ran to Italy's side protectively, but nothing could be actually be done to protect him from stranger. We only carry our guns with us and he's invincible to them so we are completely vulnerable. At this point, we might as well submit to him. I don't want to go down without a fight, but we can't fight someone who's invincible.

I ran to hide under the table, luckily unnoticed. I must look like a coward, but it was the first thing I could think to do. From under the table, I saw the stranger continue with his murderous rage. France, China, Japan, and Russia dropped like flies. Their blood poured out of their heads and stained the carpet in crimson. The metallic, sickening smell flooded my nostrils. Every breath was filled with the putrid fragrance. Their bodies looked impossibly pale. He killed them!

This stranger is murdering us and all I can do is hide. Sure, nations can't die permanently unless their body is completely destroyed or their heart is injured severely but that doesn't excuse him. The experience of being "dead" is absolutely terrible. You fear what will be done to you as you're in your most vulnerable state. It's a hard experience to describe, but every nation dreads it. And now, it looks like I'll be experiencing that dreaded experience soon enough.

I feel frozen as I helplessly sit under the table as the unknown person walks up to Germany and Italy. Germany pins the man down and tries to punch him, but the stranger is left unharmed. The madman manages to escape Germany's grasp and instead gets Germany kneeling down.

"Wh-what the hell?" Germany sputters out. The man whispered into Germany's ear. Germany's eyes widened. "Why can't I move?!" he yelled.

"Magic, idiot," the man said. He stood up and put his hands around Germany's head. "Any last words?"

Germany stared straight into Italy's eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but a loud crack came forth instead and the German's head was twisted at an uncomfortable angle,

Italy's eyes widened in terror and his best friend fell to the ground lifelessly. I saw tears flood from his eyes and he started to tremble.

"W-Why do you h-have to do th-this?" he stuttered.

"Everyone thinks I'm worthless and the people who are supposed to care about me treat me like I'm nothing! I'm going to prove that I'm worth something by becoming the strongest nation in the world!" he shouted.

"B-But you don't need to d-do this!" Italy cried, but he was silenced once the man pulled out his bat and struck Italy's head hard. Italy fell to the ground limp.

Now it was just him and me.

He turned and stared at me angrily. With an incredible amount of force, he yanked me out from under the table and held me by the collar. He turned swiftly and slammed me into the wall.

"Did you really think you could hide from me, England?" he told me. His voice was void of emotion. Then, it suddenly changed into rage. "You've always looked down on me, treating me like I'm stupid! This mistreatment ends today!" he screamed. He whipped out his bat and started to swing blindly at me. He struck my shin and probably broke it. Instantaneously, I screeched in pain. He continued swinging everywhere but my head. The man swung at my knees and broke them as well.

It hurts like hell, but I'm too filled with pain to move away or defend myself. Each torturous swing failed to kill me or knock me out. He swung at my arms and legs repeatedly. Each time, I cried in agony. It felt like an eternity.

"I bet you're ready for me to give you mercy," he muttered to me.

"Y…yes….please," I barely managed to speak. It came out as a whisper almost inaudible. A bit of blood dribbled out of my mouth.

"That's a shame. You're not going to be given any mercy in a long while. I'd rather you suffer for how you've treated me," he said without a single bit of humanity. He picked me up and set my weak body on the meeting table. "Now that you can't move on your own without feeling excruciating pain, I'd like to have some fun."

The stranger got on top of the table with me. He pulled out a knife and cut of my shirt straight down the middle. I tried to lift my arm to push him away, but instead I ended up hurting myself worse. I screamed in agony. The man laughed at my pain.

"You can't escape from me. It won't be so bad so just relax. I'm only going to poke around at your organs a bit!"

"N…no. D…Don't touch me…please," I begged.

"Your voice is getting on my nerves. If you won't talk properly, don't talk at all." After he said that, he yanked my tongue out of my mouth. In one clean slice with his knife, my tongue was detached from me.

"There, that's better. Do you want a snack?" I didn't answer. Blood was pooling in my mouth and it felt like I'd drown in it.

"Here you go!" he said and shoved the severed tongue into my mouth. Blood was still pouring out of me rapidly and my tongue being shoved in my mouth didn't help. Blood flowed into my throat and I accidentally swallowed my tongue. The tongue was too big for my throat, so I started to choke on it. The man sat and watched instead of helping.

I couldn't breathe at all. I tried to gasp for air, but none came in. My body fought to get some necessary air into my lungs. No matter how hard I coughed, the tongue wouldn't budge from my throat. Perhaps this is for the best. He can't torture me while I'm dead. Of course, I'll regenerate afterwards and I'll be at his mercy, but for now I can rest.

Spots started to cloud my vision. My lungs hurt immensely from being deprived from oxygen, but it'll be over soon. Eventually, I felt weak and tired. Finally, my body has given up. I lay down on the table and allow myself to relax my tired body. Who knows what the man plans to do with us. Considering what he just did to me, there will probably be torture. Right now that doesn't matter. My body goes limp as my mind fades into the calming void of death.

 **AN: Wow, I'm a horrible person. I plan to make this a multi-chapter fanfiction, so be ready for that. Also, in case you couldn't tell from this, the story is going to be incredibly gory and violent. It'll probably get worse as it goes on. This story was originally Trapped on Wattpad but I changed the title and a big chunk of the story. The antagonist, setting, and bits of the plot are different. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: Our First Day of Captivity**

 **Warnings: Violence, Blood, Gore, Death**

 **England's POV**

Time doesn't pass normally when you're dead. Everything seems to come to a halt as you float in the emptiness. You can't feel time pass, you just float. I could've been dead for five months or five minutes and I'd be unable to know for certain until I'm healed enough to awaken.

Well, I'm having cohesive thoughts right now which is a good sign. This usually happens only once I've almost finished healing. I can never recall what happens before this point. It's almost like I'm in a boring dream. Soon, this will just be a memory like all of my other deaths.

I wonder what the stranger is going to do with us. If we're lucky, we'll just be held for ransom until our bosses pay him. Considering his violent nature, we'll probably be tortured until our bosses comply, which is unfortunate. I'd rather not feel any pain, but it is an inevitable part of being a nation.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a wave of pain hits me. Slowly, I open my eyes and try to look around, but I can't see anything for some reason. I know I'm alive now, but why can't I see?

Suddenly, a television screen turns on, illuminating the room I'm in. The room is bare except for the camera in the left corner and the TV. The man who kidnapped us began to show himself on the screen.

"I see that you've all finally awoken," he states.. "All of you are in separate rooms, each one having a camera and television. You all will be a part of my experiments on nations. This building was a hospital, but I cleaned it up for you guys. Don't you feel special?"

"Now, you have just completed your first experiment unknowingly. It was to see how damaged a nation's body can remain before they awake. England and Germany were our variables since I didn't swing them with a bat like I did with the rest of you. Everyone that was hit with the bat was part of the control group. Isn't science fun?" It bothers me that he is using us as test subjects. At least this experiment wasn't that bad _, for the control group_. They're all probably fully recovered but I'm in pain.

"This is how things will be for my test subjects: You must try to work to your full potential during each experiment. After it is done, I will check your vitals immediately afterwards if you are still alive. If you die during an experiment, I'll just throw you back into your room. None of you will have any interaction with each other directly. During most experiments, only one nation will be tested at a time. The rest of you will watch on your televisions. That's all I have to say for now on that matter."

"Lastly, I need to check everyone's vitals right now so be prepared for me to enter the room. Afterwards, I have a pretty simple experiment ahead. Goodbye for now!" He finished speaking and the screen turned off. I feel like a rat in this stranger's lab.

The door to my room opened and the man stepped in. He quickly shut it so that I couldn't run out of the room. He had some machinery with him which would probably be used to check vitals like he said he would.

"Now, I'm only going to check your vitals. I'm not going to hurt you."

I opened my mouth and tried to speak, but my voice was gone.

"Oh, you must be thirsty. After all, you were dead for a few weeks," he says nonchalantly. "You'll be given water soon after I check everyone's vitals."

I want to demand water now, but I can only give him a dirty look.

"Don't give me that look. You never given me something when I wanted it so I think it's only fair that I do the same to you," he said. Do I know this man?

"Let me just check your stupid vitals."

After he finally finished checking everyone's vitals, he came back on the TV.

"Now that all of you have been checked, it's time for our first real experiment. The other one doesn't really count because you guys didn't even know what was going on." I wish I could yell at him, but he never returned to my room with water. Even if I did argue, I'd sound crazy.

"This one will be very fun! Well, it'll be fun for me. I'll be testing a nation's endurance." He walked off of the screen and returned with a massive wheel that had all of our country names on it. "Let's spin the wheel and see who gets to be our test subject!" He gave the wheel a big spin that made all the colors on the wheel blend in a circle. Eventually, it started to slow down. As it slowed, it seemed like it would land on my name. Surprisingly, the wheel managed to turn over my name and land on Italy's name.

"We have a winner! It's time to claim your prize, which is an experiment! I'll come over to your room to escort you!" The screen went black for a moment until it flashed on again, showing Italy's room. Italy was curled up in the corner frightened. His hospital gown barely covered him compared to my large baggy one. It's a good thing we have boxers under these.

"No need to be afraid, Italy. It's only a little experiment," the fearful Italian softly said to himself. Italy stood up and wiped away the tears that were on his face. As he was wiping his face, the man holding us captive walked behind him and tied Italy's hands together.

"Why did you do that?" Italy asked.

"It's just so that you don't try to run," he answered. The two of them exited the room and the television turned off once again. The TV flashing on and off is giving me a migraine and my dehydration isn't helping. This system of operation seems to be set up to get on my nerves.

The TV flashed yet again to Italy and the hooded stranger. Italy was laying on an operation table with his hospital gown off while the man was standing and holding a syringe filled with an unknown substance. He injected it into Italy's arm and Italy went limp, but he's definitely not dead. Italy is now a sobbing mess, but I'm not surprised. He's a coward that's being forced to face something strange and frightening.

"Please don't hurt me! I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me! I'm a virgin! You wouldn't want to kill a virgin would you?! I'm just a weak little country that can't defend himself! You wouldn't kill someone who's defenseless would you? I won't bother you at all, I just don't want to die!" Italy begged. He was speaking a hundred words a minute so I almost didn't catch what he said.

"I don't accept begging in my building," he coldly stated, devoid of all emotion. "Because of your pathetic pleas, I kind of think you actually deserve this."

"I'm so sorry! I'll stop complaining if you let me go," Italy cried. In a cruel response, the stranger slapped him hard.

"I demand you stop this instant. Your whining is only getting on my nerves, so you should stop unless you want me to lash out on you," the man said. Italy whimpered, but didn't look like he planned to talk anytime soon.

"Now that you're done complaining, I'm ready to start the experiment. This experiment will be testing a nation's endurance to pain." At those words, all hell seemed to break loose. I could hear Germany yelling from another room angrily. A few other nations also started yelling and the yells eventually became incoherent. If I had the energy and was given the damn water I was promised, I'd probably yell along with them. Then again, it'd probably be a waste of energy anyways since I'm sure that the man couldn't care less about our feelings.

"I'll make my boss give you whatever money you want! Just let me go!" Italy pleaded.

"It's time for the experiment to begin," the man stated. He grabbed a scalpel with his gloved hand and began his procedure by slowly dragging the scalpel down Italy's chest which caused him to scream in pain. Blood slowly trickled out of the newly inflicted wound. More screams were elicited when the man put both of his hands into the wound and pulled the skin apart. The man retrieved some tools to keep the skin apart and used them. Tears started to stream down the nation's pain filled face and he let out some whimpers before screeching when the man reached into Italy and squeezed his heart like a toy. My heart hurt seeing this painful display on my screen.

"Ah, such a nice feeling!" the man said joyfully. He squeezed it once more causing Italy to cry out in agony.

"Please! Stop hurting me!" Italy begged. Instead of giving the nation a break, the stranger pulled on the tender heart while squeezing it. "If you don't stop, I'll die forever! Please don't kill me!" he continued to beg in hopes of mercy.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you yet. The fun has only just begun." The man laughed as if he was enjoying himself. "Now, I wonder how you'll react to this." The stranger proceeded to pull out a hammer and strike Italy's delicate organs. Italy shrieked at the painful sensation. Over and over again, Italy was hit by the hammer. Agonized screams echoed throughout the facility endlessly. It seemed like the torture would last forever with all the pain being inflicted.

The man laughed evilly at Italy's screams. There was no mercy in this hellish hospital. If this is just the first experiment, I'm afraid of what is to come later.

Italy's innards looked like a disgusting battered mess when the man finally stopped. Italy himself looked tired and hurt. That look was so foreign to see on the usually bubbly nation's face. The battered and beat nation was painful to look at, but my eyes can't leave the screen.

The man turned around for a moment to grab something different. Once he returned to Italy, I could see that the thing he grabbed was a cleaver.

"I know what would be even more fun," the man said. His voice sounded sadistic.

"Please no!" Italy cried. Instead of listening, the man gripped the cleaver tightly and swung it down on Italy's ankle. Italy screamed in agony and more tears trickled down the country's face. Blood spewed out of the new injury and the man continued. He struck once more at Italy, severing the leg. Italy screeched so loud that it echoed throughout the hospital.

Crimson blood flowed out of the weakened country from the wounds that were inflicted on him. The sadistic man turned around to get another device for the torture session, but was interrupted by a weak plead that was barely audible.

"Kill me," Italy murmured. "Kill me, please," he reiterated. The man turned around to look at the bleeding country.

"I still haven't finished the experiment though. I need to know how much pain a nation can bear."

"This is all I can take," Italy barely managed to say. His voice was hoarse and weak and his face was one shrouded with agony and desperation. "Kill me."

It was terrible to hear Italy utter those words. He's usually so joyful so it's hard to believe that he's truly saying that. Despite how unreal it feels, this is real life and this is happening right now.

"If you truly can't take anymore, just die," the man bitterly said. "What do you want me to do about your problem?"

"Drown me, give me poison, I don't care what you use just make the pain go away!" Italy cried.

"If it's death you want, fine. I'll give you that."

Italy let out a small sigh and smiled a bit. "Thank you," Italy said.

The man grabbed his scalpel and punctured Italy's left lung with it. Italy began to cough and sputter as the lung began to fail. The nation coughed up blood on himself. His breathing sped up to hyperventilate. His face began to look paler as time went on. It was tragically ironic how Italy begged for death, but his body was struggling to survive out of instinct. Pain was all over Italy's face as he continued to cough and struggle. It was painful to watch him like this.

"P-Please, end it fa-aster," Italy stuttered. A few more tears spilled from his eyes.

The man took the bloodied scalpel and began to stab the weak country's abdomen. Blood was everywhere and, eventually, Italy's eyes lost their liveliness. He relaxed his body and died on the operation table.

Several nations started to yell angrily once more. I don't see the point of yelling. It's not like screaming will make this situation better. All we can do is let this happen. After all, we can't escape and there's no telling if anyone will be able to save us from this hospital of hell. We are just playthings for our merciless captor and we can't prevent any of the terrible things awaiting to happen.

I begin to feel tired and lay down on the bare floor of my empty room. My body needs rest to finish healing anyways. The screen switches off for the last time and I allow myself to fall asleep. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow.

 **AN: I'm so needlessly tired and don't have much motivation to do anything, so it's a miracle that I was able to write this. My self-esteem is practically non-existent, but that's just whatever. My brain feels like it's been blended up, but I still somehow manage to write. Thank you to everyone who has been reading. It makes my day when I get a notification that people like what I'm doing. Forgive me for procrastinating on writing. See ya next chapter~**


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: It's Just a Joke**

 **Warnings: Starvation, Torture Implication, Violence, Blood**

 **America's POV**

I awoke to a dark, quiet room. The events of yesterday weren't a nightmare as I originally thought. I hoped that I would wake up in my bed all nice and safe, but that wasn't what happened. I'm still in the hellish hospital and Italy has been temporarily killed. I can only hope that things won't get any worse.

My stomach growled. The man never fed us yesterday which was weird. Isn't it common courtesy to feed your captives?

"Yo, I'm hungry!" I yelled. Maybe the weird dude just forgot to feed us. "Dude, you forgot to give me food yesterday!" I'm sure he'll come in here with a sandwich or something in a minute.

Suddenly, the TV flashed on. The guy was on the screen as you would expect. "Hello, captives!"

"I'm hungry!" I yelled at the TV. He looked annoyed after I yelled that so he must have heard me.

"It has come to my attention that you guys were not fed yesterday," he said. "I apologize for the neglect but in all honesty, I don't care. In fact, I've been inspired to conduct another experiment."

I didn't like where this was going. I just wanted a damn sandwich and he's gonna run some crazy experiment on us.

"Now, I'm going to test how nations react to starvation." Goddammit. "I'll have a control group that is fed regularly, a group that is fed one meal a day, and a group that gets nothing. Sound fun?" The man laughed. This man is a sick bastard. Like, c'mon dude! Just feed us!

I decided to yell, "You're fucked up!" He didn't seem to care.

"Let's spin the wheel to see which group you get in!" The wheel was spun repeatedly until each nation was placed in a group. Finally he said, "The nations in the control group are China, England, and Japan. The nations in the group that will be fed once every other day are Germany and America. Lastly, the nations in the starvation group are Italy, France, and Russia." At least I'll get fed at some point. It sucks to not be in the control group, but I'm just glad that I wasn't put in the group that starves. Italy's been having it pretty tough here. He just got tortured to death and is going to starve now. Has he even recovered enough to hear this announcement?

"Currently, it is 12:06 in the afternoon, so I'll go ahead and feed the control group and the group that gets fed every other day. That's all for now!" the man finished speaking and the TV turned itself off.

I hope he feeds me a hot pocket or something. I just started craving them and it'd be nice to satisfy that craving. Honestly, I think I'd be fine with whatever. I'm really hungry.

After a minute or two, I heard the door open. The man came into my room and set a can of something down on the floor. I walked over to it as he shut the door. I picked up the can and saw that it was unlabeled. Curiously, I looked inside the can and saw some strange brown mush in it along with a spoon.

I yanked the spoon out of the solid mush and scooped a bit of it. It smelled terrible, but it was all I had to eat. 'Is this some off-brand spam or something?' I thought. Whatever it is, I'm eating it.

I shoved the spoon of mush into my mouth and immediately wanted to spit it out. "This is fucking dog food!" I exclaimed to no one in particular. "He's making us eat dog food!"

Regardless, I forced myself to eat half of a can. I'll eat the second half tomorrow since I won't be fed that day. That dog food made me lose my appetite from earlier. He must think we're animals! It would explain the experiments too since animal testing is pretty common. When I talk, does it sound like barks to him? If he thinks we're animals, then why did he give us hospital gowns to wear? Dogs don't need clothes. Then again, a dog in a hospital gown would be fucking adorable. I imagined a Golden Retriever in a little hospital gown and smiled. It _is_ fucking adorable! Wait, if he's testing us like animals then why did he refer to us as nations? This theory is stupid. What am I thinking?

Maybe this is all a fucked up prank. Any minute now, someone's going to jump out and laugh at me and I'll be able to go home. With today's technology, it wouldn't be hard to animate a person getting realistically stabbed to death. After all, horror movies have gotten so lifelike these days. They'd just need to get Italy to say some lines and show the animation to me. I bet Canada is the one in the costume! He's just playing an elaborate prank!

"Haha, very funny!" I laughed loudly. "Prank's over, Canada! You can take me home now!" The hospital was silent. "You couldn't fool me forever, bro! You've been busted!" I tried to keep laughing, but it started to become fake laughter. "Okay, Canada, joke's over!" I nervously laughed. Then, I stopped laughing. "That's enough. I know it's a prank so there's no point in going on with it still."

This can't be real, right? It has to be fake! It has to be! Canada just wants to scare me a bit more. It'll be okay… Right? Tears started to form in my eyes. "I want to go back home, Canada!" Silent tears started to spill out and drip onto the floor. It's all fake. I'm trying my best to tell myself that it's fake, but it feels so real. In any minute, any second, any day now, he'll laugh. He'll laugh and show everyone how I got pranked so hard… and I'll laugh too. I just want it to be over. All I need is for the joke to end and for me to be back _home_.

 **Romano's POV**

It has been a few days since the terrorist attack at the meeting place and we still don't know where the man responsible took all of the nations to. He's probably going to hold them ransom. There have been nations held for ransom in the past, but the terrorist never gets anything since nations can't die permanently unless the nation's body or heart is damaged too far. Luckily, that never happens. Terrorists that hold us ransom are always pussies so they only use guns.

As I was mindlessly watching TV, the doorbell suddenly rang. I looked up at the clock and it was 3:00 in the afternoon. That must be the mailman.

I stood up and opened the door. The mailman had already retreated to his mail truck and left behind a small package. On the label was 'Lovino Vargas' which meant it was for me. There was no return address which was a bit strange. Then again, it's probably another one of those free samples that Feliciano signed up to get. He keeps using both his name and my name so that he can get double of whatever he ordered.

Well, Feliciano isn't around so I might as well see what shit he keeps ordering under my name. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I cut open the package and opened it up. Inside, there was a small disk that was labeled with 'WATCH ME' in Sharpie. What the fuck am I looking at? It's probably loaded with viruses, but I'm curious.

I grab my personal laptop and put the disk in it. My work computer would run much faster, but that computer has important government shit, so I shouldn't use that. I wouldn't want to fuck it up like my brother did. That dumbass used his work computer to download free versions of popular games and ended up giving it malware. He put our government in danger just for some shitty games. I hope that bootleg Minecraft was worth it.

After the disk finished reading, it started to play in Windows Media Player. In white text, "Experiment #001, Pain Endurance of Nations," flashed on the screen. Afterwards, the video showed a hospital room. On the operation table was…. Feliciano?!

The man injected my brother with a syringe and he went limp. The man must have paralyzed him so that Feliciano couldn't run.

" _Please don't hurt me! I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me! I'm a virgin! You wouldn't want to kill a virgin would you?! I'm just a weak little country that can't defend himself! You wouldn't kill someone who's defenseless would you? I won't bother you at all, I just don't want to die!"_

Feliciano wouldn't stop begging while the man kept being a dick to him. Eventually, the man seemed to have enough and he sliced up my brother! As he screamed, I struggled to keep myself from vomiting. It was painful to watch my brother getting tortured. I wanted to believe that this was fake, but those entrails were too real for it to just be special effects. Feliciano was crying immensely. Tears were flowing rapidly down his cheeks and there was nothing I could do to help him. All I could do was watch as he got tortured for the sake of "science".

Eventually, the torture got to the point where Feliciano was begging for death.

" _Kill me. Kill me, please,"_ my brother begged. Feliciano, my dear little brother who was always smiling, was begging for death. It absolutely broke my heart to hear his voice go completely emotionless and beg to be killed. A man like him should never have to utter those words. It felt like Hell just to watch so I can't even try to imagine the pain that he's in.

" _I still haven't finished the experiment though. I need to know how much pain a nation can bear."_

That sick bastard! I can't believe what I'm hearing. That sick fuck is calling this horse shit an experiment?! It makes me want to dig my nails into his throat.

" _This is all I can take,"_ Veneziano seemed like he was too weak to talk. His voice was so hoarse and weak. His face that was normally soft and happy was now filled with agony and desperation for death. _"Kill me."_

Eventually, my poor brother got his wish. The only problem was that the man used a scalpel to stab his lung so Feliciano would not be dying swiftly. Veneziano started to struggle to breathe. He coughed and choked as his body tried its best to keep him alive. He continued to beg for a faster death until the man started to stab him in the abdomen. More blood flowed out of him in an endless stream of crimson.

Eventually, Veneziano's body had enough and my poor brother finally got to immerse himself into the death he had begged for. My chest was in pain as I watched his eyes lose their liveliness and his body relax.

The footage stopped and went to a black screen. In white text, the video said, "This is only the beginning of my mission for a better world. All of you have done wrong. You all ignored me and acted like I was nothing. I will no longer allow you to mistreat me that way. Each of the nations I have in captivity will be experimented on and they will be put to good use. If you want Italy to remain alive for another week, I demand one million euros. If you do not meet my demands, he will be killed permanently. Leave the money under your doormat and one of my associates will collect it for me. You have 72 hours to decide."

The video stopped. I let out a shaky sigh and picked up my phone. With trembling fingers, I dialed Spain's number. After ringing a few times, he picked up.

"Hello, Romano! How are you?" Spain said.

"Have you gotten today's mail?" I asked.

"Yes, I have."

"Did you get any weird packages?"

"I only got a little cardboard box with a disk in it. I thought it was kind of weird, so I decided not to watch anything on it," he replied. "Did you get the same thing?"

"Yeah, that's why I called you. You really don't want to watch what's on the disk."

"Why not, Romano?"

"You know how all those nations disappeared during the attack?"

"Yes."

"Well, the disk showed Italy. He was being tortured and the video states that I have to give the man ransom money or else Italy will die," I said nervously. I never want to think about what I watched again.

"You don't have to worry, Roma! Nations can't die!" He quickly tried to reassure me.

"We can die and you know it!" I yelled into the phone.

"The man probably doesn't know how to permanently kill us. Humans wouldn't know any better."

"He knows, Spain! He threatened to kill Italy _permanently._ That means that he knows that there's a difference between temporary death and permanent death. Also, he temporarily killed Italy but still made the threat on Italy's life. _He knows_."

"That sounds serious, Romano! We need to call an emergency meeting!"

"Who do we call, Spain? Germany is usually the one that organizes meetings and helps arrange emergency meetings."

"You can host the meeting, Romano. It doesn't matter who comes, as long as it's enough people that can help out," Spain said.

"Alright, go call as many people as you can. The meeting will be tomorrow at 3:00 pm in the International Meeting Place in Rome. Hopefully, we'll be able to do something to save them."

 **AN: I finally finished a chapter. Forgive me for never publishing new chapters. Russia's Crazy Dinner Party hasn't been updated in forever and I'm still barely publishing chapters for this story. Who do you guys think the mystery man is? I've left some clues in the story, but I've kind of been misleading you guys to think it's someone else. Either way, you won't get to know who the mysterious dude is until the end of the story. I already have this story almost entirely planned out. I just don't know what to put in the middle of it which sucks.**

 **You know what else sucks? Being a guy in the Hetalia fandom. Whenever I read a Reader Insert fanfic, it assumes I'm a girl. I gave up on Reader Insert fanfics. Also, everyone in the Hetalia fandom will assume I'm a girl when I'm online. Why must I always love things with a fan base full of girls?!**

 **Just to let you guys know, I have a headcannon that most of the nations have an International Meeting Place in their country. They use a different building every different session. I feel like they probably have monthly meetings.**

 **That's enough rambling. I'll see ya next chapter!**


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: Looking Through Flesh Curtains**

 **Warnings: Unintentional Self-Injury, Violence, Blood, Loss of Sanity**

-000-

Italy's POV

My skin is squirming all over, and my brain feels like syrup. I want an answer as to why my body feels so weird. Did I accidentally eat bad food? I can't remember anything except this weird feeling. The unfurnished room around me isn't helping.

Looking down, I see dirty hands and feet coated in a sticky red substance. I'm hoping that it's sauce, but for some reason my body remembers something painful. There are special curtains of skin on my stomach which interest me. Maybe there's a show inside of me that's playing.

Roughly, I pick at the scabbed curtains and dig my hands into the slit.

"I want to watch your show," I said calmly. I hear something similar to the beating of a drum inside which is so enticing. "Let me in, please." When I try to pull the curtains apart, I feel pain for some reason.

Finally, I cracked open the curtains and let out a scream of agony. The show isn't very welcoming and the curtains are burning me. When I looked down I only saw something absolutely disgusting. The red drum that I heard looked odd; it was beating without a drummer and pulsed rapidly. Pink bags were filling and emptying very quickly. My body was in pain that couldn't be stopped and shutting the fleshy curtains did nothing to help. I feel as though I am on fire even though I know it to be untrue; I see no flames surrounding me. Maybe the fire is invisible.

"I'm sorry I snuck in to your performance! Stop burning me!" I screamed at whoever was behind this. No one listened to my apology, and the invisible flames continued to nip at me. "Grant me forgiveness! I'll do whatever you want, just put the fire out!"

I wonder if kicking the director out would do anything to stop the flames from engulfing me. I figure that it's worth a try. In an attempt to stop the pain, I cracked the pale curtains open and screamed. Through tears I spoke loudly, "I demand that this end! If you do not obey, I'll hurt the director!" The director did nothing to quell the flames, so I picked up the bumpy pink snake that must be in charge of this. I screeched in agony, but I didn't let the rising flames stop me. I pulled the entire snake out and threw him at my feet. "Surely your show will fall apart if there is no one to lead it!" I screamed angrily at the snake. He had no words to say so I proceeded to stomp on him until he died. Despite the death of their dear director, the drum continued to play and the flames that punished me refused to stop. Perhaps I'll have to kill the entire band.

I scanned over my room to find something of use and saw a TV that was showing a person that looked like me. I moved my hand and the person moved his hand as well. _Why am I on TV?_

"Do you make a mockery of me, director?!" I yelled at the corpse. I picked up the snake and threw it at the screen. "Such a cruel man shouldn't make me into a part of his show! Free me from your hellfire or I'll massacre your band!" As the flames burned harshly, I figured that was his silent answer and began to tear apart everyone resting behind the curtain. Though it pained me, I ripped out a slender pink snake that was much longer than the director. One by one, a few performers were torn from the fleshy curtains. I screamed in agony due to the flames spreading all over the stage and I soon came to the realization that the curtains, the stage, and performers were all a part of me. How cruel of the director to manipulate me in such a way. He punished me for watching a show that took place on my stage, used my curtains, and stole performers from me.

"You are a thief, director! You punish me when you should be punished for robbery! Do you expect me to pay for entrance to my own stage?" I continued to yell at the director. From the grave he still treated me cruelly and made sure that the embers at my feet lasted. The ever-burning flames will be the death of me.

Red colored water spilled from the stage. The performers must be trying to save me, but it is too late for them to stop what has been done. I looked to my "self" on the screen for answers. He only stared back in a mutual confusion.

"What should I do?" I asked him. He only repeated my words. "You're not helping, Feli. I need you to say something to stop the fire before I die from it." He only looked at me with angered eyes.

"I hate you!" I screamed. I threw the director at the screen again and slung him around in hopes of him feeling pain. An odorous mush spilled from him and I yelled victoriously.

"The director shall feel my pain! He hurts from the grave!" I cheered.

Once I quieted down, I heard someone crying. "Italy, stop! You're hurting yourself!" The man had a deep voice that sounded familiar.

"The director hurt me! I'm fine!" I called to him in an attempt to assure the man. He didn't seem to stop crying. "I'll kill the band if it'll make you feel better. There's no need to cry!"

"No, don't!" he yelled, but I ignored him and pulled every band member off of my stage except for the drum. The drum seems to be special and must stay there. After a while, I felt like the fire had finally got to me. I dropped the band on the ground and collapsed onto the floor.

"I'm so tired," I muttered. The fire claimed my life, and I fell asleep in the smoky darkness that took me in.

-000-

Germany's POV

"No, Italy!" I cried out as he fell to the ground. Someone like Italy shouldn't succumb to madness. It's painful to see him tear his organs out, clueless that he's hurting himself. I wish I could run to him and save him from himself.

I watched on the TV as Italy's body relaxed and yelled, "Get up! Get up, Feliciano!" He remained still, and I knew he had died. It feels unreal that Italy unknowingly killed himself. I should've known that things weren't going to end well when the screen came on, but I never expected to see that. I wish I had been the one that the hooded man killed. Then, Italy wouldn't be losing his mind. I only hope that Italy was only groggy from recently awaking from death, but I know that Italy's mind most likely snapped. No sane person hurts themselves and blames it on their large intestine.

Suddenly, I heard a scream from the TV and instantly recognized it.

"You can't claim me!" Italy screamed. His breath was heavy and his exposed heart started to beat. "I'm not going down by the hands of a demon!" He took in some labored breaths and stood up only to fall back down. "You can call me names, but I refuse to let you take my life away!" Italy then looked straight at the camera. "Why do you still watch me?! Stop making me to be an unwilling performer in your show!" he cried. Italy stood up once more and mustered the strength to try to pull the camera off of the wall. Eventually, he seemed to grow tired. Since he was so close to the camera, I had to watch as Italy's eyes lost their liveliness and roll back into his head. He fell to the ground limp and lifeless. For once, I only hope that he'll stop trying to fight back. He can't hurt himself when he's dead.

The screen flashed away from Italy and our merciless captor appeared. "Oh, what a shame," he said. "It looks like our dear little Italy has already lost his mind. What an idiot! I didn't even need to lay a hand on him for Italy to die. Besides that, how's everyone doing? Feeling hungry?" He chuckled. "Can you believe that it has already been two weeks that you all have been in my captivity? I know it's been a bit uneventful for a while, but don't worry. The starvation experiment will be over very soon. I'll come to check on you guys tonight and see how starvation has affected you all." _Thank God that the experiment is almost over._

"The only problem is that Italy just killed himself so I'll be prolonging the experiment for a little while longer. It's funny how I planned to end it today, and Italy ruined that for me. I'll have to punish him for that. I can't wait to send the footage to Romano. He might send me more money!" _So he's profiting on the pain of us and our family members? I'm surprised Romano hasn't murdered him yet._

I wonder why the nations outside haven't stopped him yet. Maybe he's more skilled at this that I thought.

"Hey, have any of you figured out who I am? I bet not. You never seemed to acknowledge me before all this, so how do I know that you even know who I am? If you knew who I truly was, you'd feel regretful for all the times you all disrespected me, kicked me out, and treated me like I was nothing! I can't wait for the day that I get to kill you especially, England! I wish that I wasn't related to you at all!" _Well, that's a big clue. Then again, England has practically half the world related to him. I wonder what England is thinking right now._

"I'll prove to you that I am way stronger than you believe me to be! Once I kill you all and take your land you'll know! I'll be the strongest nation in the world! No longer will you see me as INFERIOR TO YOU!" The TV turned off and went black once he was done. I only hope that he gets stopped before he kills anyone permanently.

-000-

 **AN: better not eat my time skips again! The site eats my dashes, asterisks, and everything else I've tried. If this works, I'll cry tears of joy. Sorry for the short chapter, it was all I could get in. I love leaving readers with questions like "why did Feli go nuts?" "who is this mystery man?" and "wtf author?" because I am the worst fanfic author. You guys should check out my new aph fanfic "A Vengeful Heroism" because I spent a lot of time making it. I even drew concept art for it. I promise that Russia's Crazy Dinner Party isn't dead, it's just sleeping. SLEEPING! Anyways, I'll see ya next chapter! (Don't you dare eat my time skips!)**


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: Eat Me Up**

 **Warnings: Cannibalism, Death, Blood, Violence, Self-Injury**

-000-

England's POV

Despite the fact that he said it many days ago, it still rings in my ears. _"I can't wait for the day that I get to kill you especially, England! I wish that I wasn't related to you at all!"_ I can't believe that this malicious person is related to me in some way. It worries me that a relative of mine hates me enough to lash out against not only me but also the world. _What have I done? Where did I go wrong?_ It pains me to think of all the people it could be.

Suddenly, the television turned on and I looked at the masked face of our captor. I long to know whose face hides behind that plastic disguise, yet at the same time I don't want to see who's responsible for the heinous acts that have taken place already.

"Hello, captives! Are you all ready for this starvation experiment to end? I sure am!" he said with enthusiasm. "It's boring watching you all sit in your rooms and starvation is very slow. My bloodlust isn't being satisfied like this so it's about time for this to end! Actually, I'm giving you all a special treat that I'm sure you'll like. I bet you've all missed seeing your friends, so I'll let you guys stay with each other." _What?_

"Here are the people you'll be rooming with: Italy will be with Germany, England will be with France and America, and China will be with Japan and Russia. I hope you like the people you've been put with," the man said. I know for a fact that I'm stuck with the frog because I hate him. I bet that this man would do anything to make me upset.

"I'll be putting you all together in a moment," he said. At that, the screen went black. Who wants to bet that this isn't a treat at all, and that he's going to conduct another cruel experiment? I'd bet about 20 quid.

After a few moments, the man stopped by my room. The instant he opened the door, I was electrocuted by a taser. My body convulsed painfully, and I nearly passed out. He only laughed at my misery.

"This is just a precaution to make sure you don't run away when I take you elsewhere. Be a good boy and pass out for me." Eventually, I slipped into unconsiousness but not after I was tased several times more. The sound of the cruel man's laughter was the last thing I heard before I was out like a light.

-000-

My body felt sore as I awoke. _Where am I?_ I looked around and saw America and France laying down in the room with me. Without thinking, I leaped onto America. It was at this moment I realized how much I truly missed the lad. He groggily awoke in my arms, and flinched at the realization that I was on top of him.

"Dude, what are you doing?" he asked me in confusion. I turned away and let go of him in embarrassment.

"This must be a cruel joke played by the man! I woke up like that!" I refuted. America laughed and smiled.

"I know you missed me. Don't deny it big bro!" he cheerfully vocalized. I only scoffed.

"There's no way I could care for someone who smells of greasy food!" I argued. It feels so good to tease him just as we would before this. Of course, most people might think I'm being cruel, but I tease him only with good intent. It's just how we bond these days.

"Speaking of which, I would kill a man for some McDonalds! If I stab France, can I get a Big Mac with a Coke?" he joked. I felt tempted to laugh, but I've never been the kind of person to openly laugh at something so stupid.

"If you're trying to lighten me up, it's not working. Learn to tell a more intellectual joke," I stated.

Shortly after, France awoke. "Is the black sheep of Europe already arguing? You're so bitter, Angleterre," France teased. I pouted and crossed my arms.

"You're no better, Francey-Pants! While I may be a bit more inclined to argue, at least I'm not the one that has his willy up to the sky!"

"Oh, how fitting of you to be looking at mon dick. I bet you wish this 'willy' was up your asshole," he retaliated with eyes that sent mixed messages. "You're turning red, Angleterre. Is that a yes? I bet you're imagining all the time we spent together in the bedroom."

"Turn it the fuck down, dude. I don't wanna think about my big bro getting banged by the wine-tasting festival!" America yelled. His face was red, but probably not as red as mine. _France you little shit, giving me inappropriate thoughts in front of my little brother. And somehow he's still clueless as to why left him._

We shared a moment of silence until the television turned on.

"Oh shit, this won't go good," America stated, revealing the obvious.

"Hello, captives! I hope you're enjoying your company. At this point, you may do whatever you please to the people occupying your residence. I will no longer be feeding you all, so you must find your own source of food. Your rooms are already stocked with kitchen knives, so get creative. That is all," the man concluded.

"Is he suggesting that we-?" America started to ask, but was interrupted by France.

"Yes, we wants us to eat each other," France stated, grimacing.

"That's fucked up. What's wrong with this guy?!" America yelled. "He feeds us dog food, tortures us, and now he expects us to become cannibals?!"

The bit about the dog food surprised me. "He fed you dog food? At least he gave me regular food, albeit poorly made food."

"I had to ration out dog food for myself, half a can each day. I didn't want to eat it half the time, but I figured that dog food is better than no food. At least I wasn't starving," America responded.

"While I may have starved, at least I didn't have dog food. My palate wouldn't have been able to stomach that," France declared.

"It's odd how all three of us were put in the three groups," I pointed out. "It seems unlikely at best, rigged at worst."

"I wouldn't put it past that dude to rig it," America stated.

"I agree with America; it wouldn't be out of character for him to do that," I agreed.

France asked, "Well, what should we do now? Is it mutual that we'd rather not kill each other like savage beasts?"

I answered, "Yes, I do believe we've agreed to not do anything as heinous as that. We could continue to converse with each other."

As we talked, I noticed how often France and America's stomachs grumbled with hunger and felt pity for the two. I've been pretty well fed so the lack of food won't affect me for a while. On the other hand, France has been starving for more than a week and America is clearly malnourished. Just looking at them, I could see the results of starvation. France's eyes looked dull, his cheeks looked as though they sank in, and I could tell he was a bit worn out just from conversing alone. America wasn't as affected, yet he still showed subtle signs of being malnourished. _I wish I could help them, but what could I do?_

Suddenly, a sickening idea emerged. _I could allow myself to do what the man wishes and let them partake in my flesh. Would it really be wise to act upon this thought, though? What if America and France become too disgusted to cannibalize me? We agreed to not do such a thing, and I'm considering giving in so soon._

Mindlessly, I walked over to the corner where the knives were.

"Iggy, what are you doing over there?" America asked. Ignoring him, I picked up a knife and brought it to my neck, ready to slice myself open.

"Angleterre, don't do that! Put the knife down!" France yelled.

I said, "I can't let you two starve. Despite how I may act, I care about your wellbeing and don't want to see you hungry. Allow me to sacrifice myself."

America quickly argued, "That's crazy, big bro! We agreed not to be cannibals, so we're fine with starving. I'd rather starve than eat my brother!"

"Why don't you just take the knife from my hands? Oh wait, you can't. Without something to eat, you two hardly have any energy. I can make that better and fill you up."

"Did you even bother to consider how we feel?! You wouldn't want to eat one of us, would you?" America yelled.

"Well, no-," I started, but I was interrupted by America.

"Well, nothing! I'm not going to listen to your pathetic argument! Feel free to cut yourself open, but I'm not taking a bite out of you!" It hurt to hear America speak like that to me.

"America, you'll have to calm down. England, we appreciate the offer, but do not accept. Please put the knife down and come back over here," France spoke. I considered complying with what France said, but my arms took control of me. Roughly, I cut into my chest starting from my collar bone. Tears formed in my eyes and threatened to spill. The two nations in the center of the room screamed in horror. I ignored the urge to stop and continued to slice into my flesh. Stifling a scream, I pulled the blade down to my navel and stopped. I felt a bit lightheaded as some of my crimson blood dripped onto the floor. With shaky steps, I walked back to France and America. Once I was where I needed to be, I said, "bon appetite" as I lied down. The two only looked at me in horror and continued to scream.

"What the Hell, England?!" America screamed. France looked ready to pass out.

"Take all that you need. Fill your hungry bellies with my flesh so that you can be satisfied."

France yelled, "You've completely lost it!" I only smiled.

"Please eat every part of me. You're allowed to eat everything except my heart. You can feast on what I have provided."

With shaky fingers, I grasped my liver and yanked it out. I let out a small whimper in pain and handed the bloodied organ to America. America grimaced, but obeyed my wish and took a small bite.

"America, what's wrong with you?! Do you two not feel guilty for going back on your word so quickly?!" France yelled.

"Don't fight it, France. I want you to have my body," I stated.

"This is disgusting, but if you really want this…" France hesitantly picked up a kidney and nibbled on it. "It feels wrong to do this."

"There's no point in arguing with me, France," I said. He looked away from me in shame.

They continued on and ate my organs. Eventually, I began to get irritable from the pain. It took a lot of willpower to avoid screaming in agony, and I'm beginning to reach my limit. Despite the agonizing sting that filled my body, I felt satisfied that they were being fed. The only reason I haven't lost control is because France and America are talking to me through the pain. It's a small distraction, yet it is a helpful one.

"I hope Canada is feeding my cat," America said. Then, his expression became grim. "That is, if he's not the one behind this. There's too many things that the man says that hint at Canada being the culprit."

"My little Canada can't be the one to do such a thing! He's too kindhearted!" France exclaimed.

"Corruption of the soul can happen to the best of us," I responded. There was a moment of silence, until America spoke up.

"Hey, let's talk about something not utterly depressing!" America exclaimed. "Like, um…. cats!"

"Your fat ass cat sent us into this conversation in the first place," said France.

"My cat isn't fat! Shrek is just big boned!"

"You named your cat Shrek?" I inquired. America glared at me and spoke.

"Shrek is the best name for a cat! Shrek is love. Shrek is life."

I asked, "Are you quoting something?"

"You old-timer! Haven't you heard of the Shrek meme?" America questioned. I shook my head.

"What is a meme?"

"England, dude you're so old!"

After a while of talking and them eating I began to feel tired. _It must be death pulling me down._

"I'm afraid I've reached my limit. It was fun talking to you both, but I need to "rest" for a little while. Feel free to continue on, just keep in mind that it takes a day or two for me to heal lost organs. Of course, you could always gnaw on my legs," I said with exhaustion pulling at me.

America's eyes began to look glossy. "Okay, we will."

I glared at France and said, "Don't try anything, Frog."

"I'm not going to fuck a corpse, Angleterre! Especially not in front of someone else."

"Are you suggesting that you would do it if he wasn't here?" I asked. He gave me an angry look.

"France is the country of love, not lust. I ask the cutie before I touch the booty!" France declared. I began to laugh. My exposed lungs shook from laughter in a grotesque way.

Once my ribs ached, I stopped laughing and my eyes gently fluttered shut. I allowed myself to relax as my entire being was engulfed in the void.

-000-

 **AN: Aren't you guys lucky? Two chapters in two days? It's practically unheard of from me! England practically went ape-shit while France and America kinda went with it. The evil guy must be pleased with himself. I kind of want the man to have some sort of nickname that the characters can call him. Constantly writing "mysterious evil fuck boi dude" gets annoying after a while. On a positive note, the website didn't eat my timeskips, but they did cut out my mention of the website in the Author's Note because I said the actual website which must've confused it. It really made me happy to see your reviews this morning! Those two reviews are what inspired me to write this chapter so soon. Anyways, I'll see ya next chapter!**


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: Let the Show Commence**

 **Warnings** : **Blood, Death, Cannibalism Mentions, Intentional Suicide**

-000-

America's POV

I felt a pit in my heart when I saw England finally succumb to death. _He sacrificed himself for us, and all I could do is sit pitifully as he dies. I knew he was in pain, yet I kept filling my greedy stomach with his flesh._

"America, are you alright?" France asked.

"Yeah, just peachy," I murmured sarcastically. My eyes began to get watery, but I refuse to cry in front of someone else. _Heroes don't cry. Can I even call myself a hero at this point? Heroes don't cannibalize their loved ones. Heroes wouldn't let this happen._

"Don't hold it against yourself that we ate. Even if we didn't eat, Angleterre would have died anyways. You wouldn't want him to die in vain, would you?" France stated.

"I ate my brother! How could you accept that so easily?!" I yelled. France tensed up.

"He didn't want us to go hungry, America. He died to help us!" France refuted.

"We're dirty cannibals! We gave in so easily. Don't you think that's messed up? We could have stopped and let him heal, but instead we became filthy savages without hesitation!"

"No matter what we had done he'd still be dead. Would you rather go hungry? This is what he wanted," France said.

"This is also what that deranged kidnapper wanted! We gave him exactly what he wanted. At what point are we not just his puppets?" I replied.

"We have to survive somehow, America! He's not going to feed us anymore, so we must act accordingly."

"How can you really say that this is okay at all? What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled.

"You ate him, too, so don't try to paint yourself as a saint! The best we can do is pretend that this didn't happen. Otherwise we'll go mad with guilt."

"It's hard to ignore his death when he's lying right there! We ate him even though we knew it was hurting him!" _Did France not see the pain in England's eyes? Every single time he pulled out an organ I heard him stifling his agonized cries. He held back his pain, his tears, and his urge to scream out all for us._

"America, stop tearing yourself apart for this! Wouldn't you rather forget it and move on?"

"He's dead, France! He's dead because of us!" I screamed. His corpse is right in front of me, staring at the sky with lifeless eyes. _"You killed me."_ I could hear him whisper. _"You let me die, little brother. How could you? What kind of hero kills his brother?"_

"Did you put the knife to his neck? No, you didn't. This isn't our faults!" France responded.

" _I'm dead, America! It's your fault, America! Your belly is full of the flesh of your brother! Does it feel good to be full because of my death?"_ England's corpse kept screaming. _"You're a worthless little pig! You couldn't be hungry for a little while, could you? You're fat enough as is! It would have done you well to starve off all that fat anyways!"_

"America, snap out of it!" France yelled.

" _You're not a hero at all, idiot! You're such a fat fuck that I don't know why you haven't starved yourself ages ago! I bet you wish you could have eaten more. No one as useless as you is worthy to be my little brother!"_

"Stop it!" I cried. Tears threatened to spill over my eyes as his corpse mocked me. I tried to cover my ears, but it didn't drown out the noise at all.

" _What a waste of space! Why are you even alive?!"_

"Whatever you're hearing, it isn't real!" France exclaimed.

" _You should kill yourself! Maybe France can eat you just so that you can see how it feels!"_ That doesn't sound like a bad idea. _"Just pick up the knife and cut open that greedy little belly of yours!"_

"Yes, England," I replied.

"You're hallucinating, America! Don't listen to it!"

I got up and walked towards the knife that England dropped. _"Yes, be a good boy for me! All the hurting will go away, I promise!"_

"Is that so?" I asked. England nodded.

"Don't pick up that knife!" France exclaimed.

" _France doesn't know what he's talking about. He said that it's okay to eat me, didn't he? Wouldn't you rather listen to your dear brother?"_

"Yes, England." Obediently, I picked up the knife and aimed it towards myself. "Aren't I a good boy?"

Deeply, I plunged the knife into my stomach. The pain was like a white flame, but I can't disobey England. He wants this. Repeatedly, I stabbed myself as hot tears spilled from my eyes. As the knife was embedding itself into me, I could only smile. England will be so happy!

France was screaming at me, but I don't care. He doesn't know anything. _"I'm proud of you, America,"_ he whispered _._ My body started to feel weak so I let it collapse into the floor. More screaming flooded my ears, but that doesn't matter. I've made England happy to make up for my mistake. This is my rightful punishment.

Red spilled all over the plain floor of the room, decorating it in a lovely red paint. I began to feel even weaker, but I'm happy. Right beside me is England's body, so I can see him right before I die. I cracked a smile as the darkness filled my vision. The last thing I heard before I relaxed was France crying.

-000-

Italy's POV

I awoke from death in a dazed state. I've never woken up from death very well. Luckily, my best friend, Germany, is right here to comfort me. I scooted over and put my hands around him. _He's so warm, unlike the chilly floor._

Germany's muscle twitched a bit, but he relaxed afterwards like a sleepy dog. _Germany loves dogs so much that he acts like one. It's nice seeing him relaxed for once even though it's just him sleeping. He's always either stressed or angry, and it's probably worse since he's been captured._

 _I wonder what you're dreaming about, Germany. I hope you're having a good dream. Last night, I had a scary dream that I cut myself open._

Germany's eyes opened, and I smiled. "Good morning, Germany!" I said cheerfully. Suddenly, he pounced on me and held me in a tight embrace.

"I've been so worried for you," he said. If he were a more expressive person, he'd be crying. "It's torturous to watch you being hurt."

"It's okay, Germany! I'm not dead, am I? As long as I'm not permanently dead, it's okay!" I tried to assure him, but he didn't seem to be satisfied by it.

"You don't deserve what you've had to bear on your own. I wish I could protect you from him."

"I'm not a little kid, Germany. You don't have to worry over me, but I appreciate your concern," I reminded him. He still wasn't pleased.

"You hurt yourself earlier, Italy; it's his fault that you did that."

I asked, "What are you talking about, Germany?" He sighed and shook his head.

"Never mind, Italy."

"No, tell me!" I exclaimed. "You can't tell me something like that and expect me not to get curious."

"It'd be better if you didn't know." _This is getting annoying._

"Okay, then don't tell me, meanie!" Germany showed a hurt expression on his face. _Did he not know that I don't mean it when I say 'meanie'?_ "Don't be sad, Germany! I didn't mean it when I used that mean word. I'm sorry!"

He responded, "It's not that, Italy. Just don't worry about it."

"Well, what should we do now?" I asked. There isn't much to do in this boring, empty room.

"There's not much we can do. I've been trying to think of escape plans, but none of them are feasible."

"That's so like you, Germany. I'm glad this place hasn't changed you," I said. "I can't wait for us to escape together. I miss Romano, and good food, and the sun, and the birds chirping, and my bed, and everything else."

"I miss my dogs. I hope Prussia has been taking care of them, but you know how my brother is. I also miss my beer. Now would be a good time to get drunk."

"That wouldn't be good though. You'll get a bad hangover. Also, I know you wouldn't like having puke everywhere," I said. He nodded.

"Yeah that is true. It's been a pain enough having nowhere to use the bathroom. The least he could do is give us a pail," he said.

"I agree. You would think that he'd get upset at how bad the rooms smell."

Suddenly, the TV turned on.

"Hello, captives! Today I have an experiment planned." I felt a pang of dread when the words hit my ears. I'm not sure why though. He hasn't hurt me from what I remember.

I started to tremble and struggle to breathe. _Why is my body acting this way? The man hasn't hurt me, has he?_ I felt arms wrap around me, but that didn't matter. My breaths kept coming fast and shallow. Cold drops of sweat dripped from my forehead. After a while, my lungs hurt, but I can't stop hyperventilating. It's painful to breathe in and out.

"Breathe, Italy. In and out," Germany said in a calm voice. It feels like I'm on another planet. With my eyes closed, it feels like I'm floating away. "Italy, stop! You'll pass out if you don't breathe!"

I knew tears were spilling out of my eyes, yet I can't feel it. I wish I could stop, but everything around me feels so wrong. As I'm hyperventilating my limbs are going cold, and my face tingles like little pinpricks all over my skin. My head starts to blend into the air. Somewhere, I feel someone shaking me, so I try to snap out of my hypnotic trance, but I can't.

Eventually, I fell asleep from the lack of oxygen.

-000-

Germany's POV

 _Shit, he passed out._ Despite my efforts to get Italy to stop, he passed out from lack of oxygen. At least the man can't experiment on someone who's passed out. Gently, I set Italy down on his side. I turned to the television and listened to what the man had to say.

He said, "This experiment is also an endurance test. This time, however, it's actually focusing on endurance. I found a workout room and figured that it could be put to good use. Now, let's spin the wheel to see who gets to try it out!" The man pulled out the dreaded, colorful wheel with our names on it.

The wheel began to spin rapidly, blurring the colors and names. _If I were religious I'd be praying, but I've never been the kind of person who'd worship a god. Italy, on the other hand, would be on his knees begging to his god for mercy. Regardless, it's not very important. I just hope that the wheel doesn't land on Italy._

The wheel began to slow down until it was ticking very slowly. Eventually, it landed on Italy's name.

The man spoke, "Congratulations, Italy! You're my lab rat today. Isn't that exciting? I'll be coming to pick you up momentarily." _If I wait by the door, I'll be able to escape. I need to take Italy with me though, which will slow me down. Of course, escape is important, but I can't leave him to the mercy of this man. I could use Italy to deflect the electric shock of the taser. Sure it's not the best thing to do to an unconscious friend, but I don't have many options. Besides, he'll be able to heal once we're free._

I slung Italy over my shoulder and waited at the door. Once I hear it unlock, I'll run.

I heard his footsteps getting closer and closer. I prepared myself to sprint. Finally, I heard the click of a door being unlocked and pushed the door open. I began to sprint away from the enclosure. _We're finally free, Italy._ Suddenly, before I could run down the hallway, the man had tased me.

"Did you really thing you could escape that easily?" his scrambled robotic voice teased. "You're pathetic!"

My muscles painfully convulsed in response to the electric shock. He laughed at my misery.

"As punishment for escaping, I think I should change the experiment. What do you think of an experiment testing a nation's reaction to watching his best friend die?" he taunted. My heart dropped.

"You can't kill him! I won't let you!" I yelled.

"Oh, that's a much better idea. I was going to let you die, but I think letting Italy die would be much more painful for you. You'll have to bear the guilt of knowing it's all your fault."

"You wouldn't dare!" I exclaimed.

"It's about time that I kill him anyways. He's already lost his mind, and Romano hasn't paid the ransom I demanded. I'll dump you in your room while I set up." He aimed his palm at the two of us and lifted us in the air nonchalantly.

"What the-"

"It's magic, idiot. I've told you this before," he responded before I finished. He roughly slung us into the room and slammed the door. _Everything is hopeless. Italy is going to die because of me, and he doesn't even know it._ All I can do now is wait for the man to murder my best friend, and there's nothing I can do about it.

-000-

Unknown POV

After I finished the setup of the execution, I went into the computer room. "It looks like I'm actually going to end a life today," I said to my assistant, Travis. He's been without pay for a few weeks, yet he still stays in hopes of something. The brown-haired man turned to me.

"It's a shame that we didn't get any money. You can't even feed half of your captives, and I haven't been paid since I started working for you. I'm beginning to have doubts that it's worth it to stick around," Travis said.

"It'll be fine, Travis. People will take me more seriously once I actually kill someone. Honestly, I didn't want to kill anyone so early, but it looks like I have no choice. Someone needs to die anyways," I muttered.

"I thought you said that nations were immortal. How is it that you can kill one of them?" Travis asked. He's a mere human so I don't think he quite understands half of what I talk about.

I explained, "Under certain circumstances, a nation can die. Hopefully, once I kill Italy I'll get his land."

"You could pretend-kill him again if you don't want him to die, right? It feels wrong to actually let someone die, especially if you don't want him dead."

"No, Travis, I can't do that. There's a difference between temporary death and permanent death. Romano would assume I'm bluffing if I didn't give him proof that Italy is dead. I'll just have to give him proof. Also, I need that land mass."

"Well, how exactly are you going to do that?" he asked.

"If you bring Romano the dismembered head of Italy, there will be no doubt about it that Italy died," I stated. Travis grimaced.

"How am I supposed to carry around a disembodied head without getting arrested? I have a family, sir! I can't go to jail while I have a daughter to care for!"

I sighed at his petty worries and spoke, "Just use the mailman disguise again. No one will bat an eye at a mailman delivering a package. We'll have to steal a mail truck again, though."

"I hate having to do these things. You better have a paycheck for me soon, or I'll quit. There's no point in doing this crap when it doesn't pay for baby formula and diapers," Travis complained. I rolled my eyes.

"I don't give a shit about your daughter, so stop rambling. I get it, babies are expensive, but you don't need to keep complaining! I'll pay you once I can. Now, go back to trying to hack the meeting place's network. I wanna go live with this shit. Did you make sure the signal was untraceable?"

"Yes, sir. I altered our signal so that if they tried to trace it, they'd think it was coming from my ex's house. She lives in Australia now, so it's far from here. Also, I've nearly gotten through their encryption."

I smiled. "Excellent work. It'd be amazing if you could get it live in time for the next world meeting. According to the security footage we got, it'll be this afternoon, so I'd appreciate it if you got it done by then. For now, I'll get them ready," I stated. As I was getting up, my glove went straight through my hand. Within seconds, my hand went from a normal looking hand, to a ghostly one. I tried to touch my hand, but my other hand went straight through just like the glove.

Travis' eyes went wide. "W-What in the world is going on?!"

"It's fine, Travis. This happens sometimes," I said calmly. Once the hand became solid, I slipped the glove back on. "I guess it's for the best that I have to kill Italy. Maybe if I get his land, I won't have to deal with this kind of thing." I walked out of the room before he could say anything else. _It's just not fair. Those other nations are so cruel to me. I wonder if they realize that they're the reason I'm dying._

000

I walked up the stairs to the second floor and walked down the hall until I reached Germany and Italy's room. I gripped the taser in my hands and entered the room. Instantly, I fired the taser on Germany again.

Italy awoke and murmured, "Huh, what's going o-?" His words were interrupted by the taser and he began to painfully convulse.

I used my magic to pull all of them out. I proceeded to tie them all up and decided that I should make a detour before heading to the execution room.

"Hey! What are you doing?! Let go of me!" he cried, realizing that he's been tied up. I ignored him and dragged him into the studio where I usually recorded my broadcasts for the others.

"I'm afraid that your brother didn't give me the ransom money I demanded so I can't keep you around. Also, Germany tried to escape with you, so I must give him a punishment to prevent this from happening again, and what's more traumatizing than watching your friend permanently die because of you. It's nothing personal against you, I just can't let you live," I explained. Gently, tears fell down his cheeks and he started to sob. His breaths came in short hiccups as he cried.

"I d-don't want to d-die," he struggled to say. I felt pity for the crying man in front of me, but I have to kill him; I can't afford to let him live. _Besides, if I don't get more recognition as a nation, I'll die. I'll be recognized if I kill another nation. I'll be considered strong and powerful! It's only fair that I kill all these people that are collectively responsible for my soon-to-be death so that they redeem themselves._

I handed him a box of tissues for him to wipe his eyes and nose with. Once he was cleaned up a bit, I spoke, "Now, I'm giving you the chance to send your last words to whoever you want. I'll turn on the camera once you're ready." Luckily, Germany was waiting silently, so he wasn't a problem for me.

"You can turn it on now," Italy said. I pressed the button and the light began to blink.

Italy vocalized, "Well, I just heard from the man that he's going to kill me because you didn't do what he told you to, Romano. I d-don't know why you didn't listen, but I'm s-sure you had a good reason." He started to cry again, but he didn't stop talking. "Even though I'm going to die, it'll b-be okay. Grandpa Rome will be there waiting for me." He paused to try to calm down, then continued. "I'm going to miss you when I'm in h-heaven. I hope you don't miss me too much though. I don't want you to be sad because of me. I wish I could see your face one last time, but all I see is a camera." He said something in Italian and then continued, "Goodbye, Romano. I love you." He gave the camera a small smile and looked at me to show that he was done, so I turned the camera off.

"Is that all?" I asked, picking up the camera and putting it in the pocket of my cloak.

He nodded his head and said, "Yes."

Afterwards, I forcefully grabbed his wrists and tied them together again. Then, I led both him and Germany down the hallway to the place I had set up. I threw Germany through one door, and Italy into the other one. Once I threw them in, I locked the door from the outside and went to Travis's office.

"Hey, have you hacked into it yet?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yes, sir. People are starting to come into the meeting room and I've managed to gain access to the big screen in there."

"Good job, Travis. Before we can start, I want you to show this on the screen," I said while handing him the camera. "I can't wait to start. Let me know when the meeting begins," I said.

"Yes, sir."

"Also, make sure that the footage from Italy's death plays on the TVs in the captives' rooms. Along with that, I'd like the meeting's footage, and the footage of Germany's reaction to be recorded as this plays," I ordered. Travis nodded _. It'll be fun to watch the footage later._

I left the computer room and entered the large enclosure I had set up for Italy. Through my walkie-talkie, I heard Travis say, "The meeting just began. I'm going to roll the footage. We'll be live in a couple of moments."

"Let the show begin."

-000-

 **Author's Note: On one note, do I really need the warnings every chapter? I'm thinking about scrapping that. Also, I'm sorry for not updating in a long while. I haven't updated in a little over 3 months, yet there are authors on the site that can somehow update weekly. I feel like you readers are going to be crying over this chapter because this was sad enough to get ME emotional and I rarely ever feel any emotions as strong as the ones I felt while writing. The biggest reason that I haven't updated is because all my recent attempts to write this have ended up getting scrapped since it sometimes doesn't feel good enough. As an apology, I'm going to update this story with this chapter (which is at about 4 thousand words!) and hopefully chapter 7 since it's mostly written. All I have to do is edit it since I originally just had Italy dying alone in the first draft. Also, the first draft had Germany somehow manage to escape for a while until the man found them. Anyways, remember to review because those things are my only motivation these days. I'll see ya next chapter!**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven: The First Death**

 **Warnings: Character Death, Blood, Violence**

-000-

Italy's POV

The door snapped open with an intense force. The swing of the door was so strong that it rammed into the wall and left a small dent. I flinched at the sudden noise. A single tear slipped out of my eye from the intense fear that struck my entire being. With wide eyes I stared at the masked face of my captor and froze. _Surely this is the end for me. There's no way that the cruel man in front of me would spare my life._

"Today is the day that I end your life forever, Feliciano. How does that make you feel?" the man sneered in a tone that conveyed superiority over me. At the thought of my final death, I began to tremble. _No nation deserves to suffer an eternal death. I wish someone could save me, but I know for sure that no one will. Germany is behind the glass to my right, and my brother probably doesn't know where I am._

Tears began to spill down my cheeks. _I'm all alone besides that man and Germany, and no one outside knows where I am._ The depressing thought of death causes my breaths to shorten and I start to hyperventilate. _Death and loneliness are the scariest things to me, and I must face them both right now._

"Stop crying you worthless waste of space! Are you really going to go down like a complete wimp?!" the man scolded. His screams resonated in my head, amplifying after every repeat. _How does someone not cry when they're about to die? Sure Germany wouldn't be crying, but he's not very emotional. Maybe he's right though. I'm such a coward!_

"Don't make fun of him!" Germany yelled. "You're a filthy murderer! You'd probably be just as scared, if not more!"

"Shut up!" the man snapped at Germany.

"Now can I set up the last parts of your execution without you blubbering all over yourself?" he asked. I couldn't respond to him. My throat was sealed shut from fright and I might just go numb from fear. He sighed and pulled out a rope. With skillful hands he fashioned a rope into a noose and secured it to the ceiling. _Oh no, this is really happening. I'm going to die._ I want to wake up, but I know that this is reality. _Why is this happening?_

I wanted to break away and run from my fate, yet I know that I'm trapped. Like a canary in a coal mine, my voice will cease as the world crumbles. _Then again, canaries can warn the coal miners. I can't do anything but cry out to deaf ears._

A wooden chair is placed under the noose. The mere thought of having my neck in that noose makes me tremble harder. My heart is pounding like the harsh beating of a heart. I almost wish that the adrenaline and fear would kill me before I can be murdered by him. In a way, he'd never get the satisfaction of being the one to pull me under. Unfortunately, I'll never get that pleasure. I'm a bird with his wings bound. There's no way to fly away, so I have to face my killer. If I struggle and squirm, it does nothing but give me sore wrists.

I bowed my head and began to send out a small prayer. _Dear Heavenly Father, if you're listening, I ask that you protect the people in captivity with me. I know that there is no hope for me at this point, so please keep everyone else safe as you see fit. I also wish for you to allow this evil man to be apprehended before anyone else becomes a victim to him. Please allow for Romano to care for my people once I have deceased._

Suddenly, the man slapped my cheek. "Don't ignore me!" he yelled angrily. I looked up and saw that he had finished setting up the execution. The time of my demise arrived too quickly. Hastily, he untied me from the post. I remembered this one time Germany was training Japan and I. If I recall correctly, he was teaching us ways to escape if we had to.

" _Remember, Italy, if you tense up your muscles as someone ties your wrists together, then you might be able to free yourself. Once you relax your muscles, the rope will be loosened and you'll be able to escape."_

I tensed up my muscles as he bound my wrists again. Harshly he barked, "Get on the chair!" Using my small chance, I relaxed my muscles and allowed the rope to loosen. Quickly, I slipped my wrists out and grabbed the door. At that moment, I made a run for it. He ran after me, but I was faster. Bolting, I ran throughout the abandoned hospital in an attempt for freedom. I kept on running since I knew my life and possibly everyone else's lives depended on it. After racing through the corridors, I found the entrance. With all my strength, I tried to open the door but failed. _It's locked!_

Noticing the man gaining on me, I ran and tried to find another exit. I noticed a broken sign labeled 'EXIT' and sprinted towards it. I pushed my hands out in front of me and opened the door. To my relief, the door gave in and I was able to escape. Once I had reached the outside world, I wanted to embrace the nice feeling, but I had to run far from him! Unfortunately, I was getting exhausted from the constant exertion. _Keep running, keep running._ To my dismay I heard the shouts of an evil curse being cast, and my legs melted into jelly.

"Did you really think I wouldn't catch you?!" the man screamed. I tried to keep going, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. I fell to the dried grass quickly, and the man laughed at me. "You're lucky I didn't have my taser with me. Otherwise, you'd be a twitching mess."

I said, "You won't get away with this! You'll get what you deserve soon!" He picked me up and carried me back into the Hellish hospital. I screamed and cried in hopes of someone out there hearing, but I only got silence. I struck his back with my fists, tried to wiggle out of his grasp, yet it wasn't helping. _That small moment outside is probably the last I'll ever see. My touch of freedom has been stolen with me, leaving my efforts in vain._

Watching the door seal shut, watching my freedom slip from my hand, I couldn't take it. I screamed like a child and bawled. I knew it wasn't very mature, yet I couldn't stop. _I couldn't save my own life. I'll surely die in this wretched place._

Suddenly, I began to see an illusion. An unidentifiable wispy figure was singing.

" _The songbird was strangled, the very first to go. He had a breath of freedom before it faded with his hope. There will be no more sweet dreams for little canary, a forever nightmare awaits. Goodnight to the prince of sleep."_ Once the song was finished, the figure faded with the wind.

The illusion left me unsure of what happened, but I'm too depressed to care. I sank into the man's shoulder in defeat and stopped struggling. He chuckled a bit, and I ignored it completely.

"It's about time you stopped struggling! It was getting annoying. Anyways, here we are again," the man said as we entered my execution room. My face was melted into a nonchalant expression as he forced my head into the noose. The rope scratched at my boney neck, but I didn't mind. After all, it'll all be over for me momentarily.

"No, Italy!" he cried. Turning to the man he yelled, "Just let him go! Let me take his place! Anything!"

The man talked into a walkie-talkie, and the camera in the corner of the room flashed an angry red light. _That sick man must be recording my death. I bet he takes pleasure in my demise._

The man bellowed, "Italy Veneziano, I declare you guilty of unimaginable crimes against humanity. For what you've done, I sentence you to a permanent death." I didn't want to listen to the toxic man. Each one of his words spouts venom in my ear. I was tempted to ask what he thought I did, but I refrained in favor of staying silent.

"Italy is innocent! He hasn't done anything wrong!" Germany exclaimed. Yet again, the man ignored him.

"Not talking, eh? Fine then! I'm sure you'll be talking when I light a flame at your feet!" he yelled. From my peripheral vision, I noticed him pull out a lighter. The sound of a fire started from the bottom of the chair. "Your chair will crumble under the flame causing you to be choked by the noose. Pretty impressive, right?" At this point I couldn't care less about what he said. Regardless of the words that spilled out of his mouth, I'd still die. Why should I bother to listen to him? He grunted in annoyance and stood back from me.

"Are you feeling hot yet?" he asked. I remained silent, annoying him more. "Stop ignoring me! I don't understand you! One minute ago, you were trembling under me. Now, you act like you don't care! Do you want a reason to care!" he kept screaming. The screaming hurt my ears, yet I still couldn't bother to give him the satisfaction of receiving an answer. He doesn't deserve the pleasure.

The flame had spread a little, and I was able to feel the warmth of the flame. If I stay still, the flame will burn me. I could kick the chair from under my feet to speed this up. _He shouldn't get the pleasure of killing me! If I kick the chair, I'll die because of my own acts._

I smirked at the man below me and said, "I won't let your flame kill me," and kicked the chair. The noose strangled me, but I welcomed it. I looked into the camera and smiled. He'll probably be watching this later, so I mouthed, "You couldn't strangle the songbird."

Germany began to bang on the glass with his fists, screaming. I'd rather pretend that it's not happening.

As my oxygen supply began to run low, I felt myself becoming overwhelmingly exhausted. My lungs burned like the flame that couldn't touch me, and I embraced the feeling of my soon coming death. Suddenly, memories of my time in the hospital flooded my mind. They're so familiar and gruesome, so how did I forget? _Well, at least_ _I won't have to suffer in this madman's hospital anymore. My days as a lab rat are over._

Dark spots began to nip at my vision, and I wanted air desperately. A tear slipped from my eyes. Instinctively, my body tried to stop my death, forcing my arms to pull on the rope and scratch at my neck. Of course, it didn't work. _I'm so tired that I could sleep for days._ My head felt like lead; it's so heavy.

I heard a familiar voice scream. My thoughts are starting to get foggy, so I can't quite recognize the desperate cries of 'No' and "Italy'. _What is Italy? Who am I?_ At this point, I already can't recall my memories. Instead, my brain is melting into soup.

Finally, I felt a relieving wave of calmness hit me. The world was going dark, and I loved the feeling.

 _Let go._ It whispered, and I relaxed my body. I felt myself becoming a part of the air. Just before I completely released, I felt a painful slice going through my neck.

-000-

Romano's POV

As everyone was settling down to start the meeting, something strange happened. When the room got quiet, a noise starting coming from the speakers in the meeting room. Various clicks and beeps were going off without a reason. I was about to ask someone to check it out, but something horrible appeared on the big screen TV.

It was my little brother who flashed onto that screen for the whole world to see. He was clearly starved and had fresh tears on his face. It was hard to look at him, yet I couldn't turn away. Nations around me gasped, some murmured nervously, and others froze like me. It felt completely unreal when the boney form that resembled my brother began to speak.

"Well, I just heard from the man that he's going to kill me because you didn't do what he told you to, Romano." _This can't be happening! It must be fake!_

"I d-don't know why you didn't listen, but I'm s-sure you had a good reason."Frozen in shock, I felt a tear slip from my eye. _This is all my fault._ Even though he's about to die because of me, he still finds himself able to forgive me. I want to think that what I'm seeing is fake, though I know it's real.

"Even though I'm going to die, it'll b-be okay. Grandpa Rome will be there waiting for me."It's repulsive to see my cheery little brother in this emotional state. I know for a fact that the only reason he's not blubbering is because he doesn't want me to feel bad. I appreciate the effort, but I can't see how the alternative would have been any less tragic. Similarly, I feel like I could burst into tears, but I need to hold it back since I'm in public.

"I'm going to miss you when I'm in h-heaven. I hope you don't miss me too much though. I don't want you to be sad because of me. I wish I could see your face one last time, but all I see is a camera."

In slightly stuttered Italian, he said, "Please trace the signal if you can so that the others can be saved."I felt my heart drop before I finally said something.

"He said to trace the signal! Don't just fucking stand there, do something!" I yelled. The only person here with enough computer knowledge to do that was Estonia. Quickly, he scrambled to pull out his laptop.

Before the screen went black, Veneziano said, "Goodbye, Romano. I love you."

I wanted to pass out so incredibly bad. If I were unconscious, I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. Estonia was struggling to even turn the slow ass computer on, and no one tried to help improve the situation.

Suddenly, the screen turned on again. This time, it was in a different room. Feliciano was standing on a chair with a noose around his neck. I felt utter dread form in my chest _. He's going to die._ Unlike before, he was now completely calm, though his expression resembled something along the lines of despair. His hands were tied behind his back as if he were a guilty man sentenced to death.

The cloaked man spoke, "Italy Veneziano, I declare you guilty of unimaginable crimes against humanity. For what you've done, I sentence you to a permanent death."

The man seemed pissed that Italy wasn't saying anything. "Not talking, eh? Fine then! I'm sure you'll be talking when I light a flame at your feet!"

At that, he lit the chair legs with the small yellow flame. Gently, the fire crawled up the leg bit by bit. The sound of wood crackling could be heard if you listened closely.

Feliciano didn't even look at the fire below him. Completely still, he allowed the flame to eat away the chair. Then, he smirked at the man and kicked the chair. It was at that moment the reality of this all hit me. _This isn't a nightmare that I can wake up from, nor is it fake. I can only watch helplessly as my brother begins to choke._

"Estonia, where the fuck is the signal coming from!" I screamed desperately. It's infuriating to watch my brother die while the other nations do jack shit about it.

Estonia looked at me with an anxious expression and said, "I can't find it! I'm trying my hardest, but I just can't find it!" I was ready to punch him, or anything. Before I could pounce on him, Spain came up behind me and held me back.

"Romano, stop! Hurting Estonia won't make it any better!" Spain yelled. I squirmed and fought to get out of his hold, yet nothing seemed to work. "It'll be okay!"

"My brother is fucking dying and you have the nerve to say that it's going to be okay?!" I screamed. As I struggled, I saw how Feliciano was turning blue from a lack of oxygen. I wanted to fight it, but it's hopeless.

I stopped struggling so that I could focus on the screen. I could see how he was struggling to keep his eyelids open. _He's about to die._

He smiled a little and went completely limp like a ragdoll.

"Feliciano!" I yelled at the screen. "No, Feliciano!" I kept screaming, but nothing changed. My world feels like it's crumbling and there's nothing that can be done about it. Then, when I thought that things couldn't get any worse, the man grabbed the knife.

"Here's your special gift, Romano," the man said as the decapitated my brother. "Expect this face to reach you."

"You bastard! You fucking bastard!" I screamed and fought to get out of Spain's hold. He held me tighter the more I fought. "I'll kill you!" I expected Spain to say something to comfort me, but there wasn't anything said. I heard other nations crying, but I didn't care. "I'll fucking kill you, you spawn of Satan!" My shoulder began to have small droplets of water falling onto it. I turned to see why and saw Spain silently crying.

After the initial shock, I managed to calm down and squirmed out of Spain's grasp. He didn't try to hold onto me, so I left the building. I'd rather not look at the other crying faces in that room. I'll just have to handle this on my own.

-000-

 **A/N: One down, many more to go. It's about time I killed a character. After all, I've been planning his death for like a year. (I'm not exaggerating. I've had this story in my head for a while.) On an unrelated note, you guys are pretty good at predicting future events. Someone's review already pointed out that the man wouldn't get Italy's land and I'm sitting here thinking about how I wasn't planning to reveal that until later but now I'm gonna put it in the next chapter. Anyways, I'll see ya next chapter!**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight: Please Don't Hurt Me**

 **Warnings: Violence, Torture, Death, Cannibalism, Abusive Relationships**

-000-

Unknown's POV

In an almost tragic finality, Italy's body ceased its struggle and sank into an eternal slumber. _Well, I guess that's a nicer way to put it, considering the fact that I'm responsible for his death._ I use my knife to quickly slice the rope hanging the dead man in front of me. Taking a glance at the pitiful corpse, I notice the relief in his eyes. I felt a pang in my chest looking at the deceased nation in front of me. _I killed him. This is my fault. No! I'm not a murderer. Even if I am, this is his rightful punishment._ _That look on his face shows that he wanted to die!_

I don't have time to be wasting on him. _He's a pathetic excuse for a nation, and he had to die_. As I lifted his lifeless head, I turned to the camera; I have to say something to the viewers. Everyone needs to see how serious and mature I am. _I just need to say a few words. They can't even see my face. After that, I can turn the camera off and think about it._

Trying my best to sound tough, I sneered, "Here's your special gift, Romano. Expect this face to reach you." Firmly, I grasp my knife and slice into the flesh of his neck. Gentle droplets of crimson flow from the wound as I sit there gazing at him mournfully. A heavy feeling pangs inside of my chest again. Is this guilt? _Ugh, I can't be acting like this, especially while I'm on camera! He's just a hunk of meat that I need to cut up._ The fresh, warm blood on my hands used to be pumping in his heart, and I've stopped that. _He used to be a living, breathing person just like me, and I've killed him!_

 _I can't focus on this right now! I need to act tough!_ I began to saw into the neck in front of me, trying my hardest to finish the job as quickly as I can. The neck is hard to cut through with a flimsy knife, and the task only feels worse when Germany's sobs keep ringing through my ears. I don't even want to think of what Romano is going through. _Why do I feel so bad? Just moments ago, I wanted everyone dead, yet now that I've killed just one person I feel terrible. Will I be able to go on killing people?_

Finally, I finished cutting the neck. I stood up and held Italy's severed head by the hair in a strong grip. Travis, probably realizing that I was done, turned the camera off. Once the camera's red blink stopped, I dropped the head and left the room. Quickly, I opened the door to where Germany was and tased him. His sobs ceased momentarily as his body violently convulsed from the electricity.

I really don't want to deal with him; I just want to go to my room and lay down. Even though he was still convulsing, I picked him up and dragged him to his room. During this, some of Italy's blood smeared onto Germany, making the whole ordeal a bit slippery. Finally arriving, I opened the door to his empty room and hastily tossed him in. As I began to return to my own bedroom, I saw Travis leave the computer room. Even though he probably needed to talk to me, I barked, "Just take the head to Romano's house and go home!"

"Yes, sir," Travis muttered, slightly annoyed. I wasn't in the mood to lash back for the attitude, so I continued on my way.

Finally reaching my room, I went in and plopped down on the bed. Even though I'd be more comfortable if I took off my disguise, I don't have the energy to bother. All I have right now is guilt.

I don't know if I should do anything else _. I've already caused enough harm for them to realize my strength, so maybe I should let everyone go. I could even put on a hospital gown and act like I was also captured. After all, I've been disguised. Then again, the security footage from the meeting shows that I wasn't kidnapped with them. However, I could say I was caught as I was going into the building. Hm, that might actually work._

A familiar voice refuted in my head, "No, you can't do that! You've worked so hard, but you're going to quit just because of you feel bad. Do you see how stupid you sound? Even if you did want to quit, you'd be breaking our agreement."

"I should've never made that stupid agreement in the first place," I muttered.

"Stupid agreement? I wouldn't call an agreement at the cost of your life and soul stupid. You're supposed to provide me ample victims, or you become the victim. You even benefit from the torture because of your whole vengeance thing, and I sometimes let you torture them when you want. Also, I'm generous enough to let you kill them like earlier!" she ranted. "Besides, doesn't it feel good to inflict pain on others? I know you like it; It makes you feel better about the past."

I replied, "Well, you need me to kill them or else your precious vessel will die. I wouldn't call that an act of generosity, more an act of necessity. You're painting yourself a saint despite all the torture you've done to me before."

"Are you really going to whine about the old days? It's not my fault that my previous vessel was more eager for a killing spree than a slow and painful torture. It wasn't anything against you, it's just that you were an easy target, and my previous vessel had to fulfill my sadistic needs. Don't you forget that I kept you alive for a while and made sure to keep your brother alive as well."

"You killed me though."

"Honest mistake," she giggled. "Anyways, isn't it ironic that you want to kill the same brother that you tried so hard to protect?"

"He's the reason I'm in this situation in the first place. It's his fault I'm suffering."

"Wow, tragic," she said nonchalantly. "To be honest with you, I don't care."

"I don't know why I bother to talk to you. You're just a jerk."

"A jerk with perks," she quipped.

"Still a jerk."

"Ugh, you're no fun!" she grouched. "You know, I've got a special surprise for you. Just take off that ridiculous costume."

Complying, I changed out of my outfit and into some plain clothes.

"Good boy, now look in the mirror!"

I turned to the mirror to my left and saw that something about me was different. Curious, I stepped closer and noticed that the normal hue of my eyes had a slight red tint to it.

"Isn't it cool? They say that eyes are a gateway into the soul. The more nations you kill, the more your eyes will change. You're already a new man!"

"That's nice," I muttered.

"I expected a more enthusiastic reaction from you."

Sighing, I responded, "Well, I'm not the same person I used to be. Everything I've gone through has changed me."

"Whatever, I don't care," she groaned as she decided to quiet down for now. _Thank God that she finally shut up!_

Today's been exhausting, so I'm going to go to bed early. Italy's remains are going to stink tomorrow, but I couldn't care less right now. I flopped onto the bed and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

-000-

Travis's POV

After delivering that disgusting head, I was relieved knowing that I was allowed to go straight home once I drop the mail truck off. Then again, the truck is stolen so it wouldn't be a good idea to just drop it off for them to see that I was the one who stole it. Putting in the key, I started the engine and began to drive to a familiar cliff. I know from experience that the bottom is so deep that no one could ever try to find what lies below. I've disposed of many things in the depths of its belly that remain undiscovered. Ironically, the lush grass around the area caused it to be named by the locals as the Pit of Life. Little do they know that their beautiful grass is fueled by many decaying men.

I stopped the truck once I got close to the edge and began to push it. After a bit of effort, the truck teetered on the very edge before I gave it a final shove into its grave. The massive hunk of metal smashing into the ground below was barely audible. _It'd be funny if that truck hit all the men lying at the bottom. Would their bones get ground to dust, or have their remains long sunk into the mud?_

It was a long walk back to where I had parked my car. The parking garage was full of cars similar to my own, but my memory never fails. I sat down in the driver seat of my minivan. My wife, Sarah, insisted that one baby didn't call for us to buy such a big car, but I traded out our plain old car for this anyways. She doesn't know yet, but I've replaced her birth control with sugar pills. I want to have as many children as possible with her, so sometimes I have to keep secrets in order for us to be happy. I know she didn't mean it when she told me that one child was enough. She could go into menopause at any time. Her biological clock is ticking, so it's only fair that I do this.

I pulled into the driveway of our house and went inside. Surprisingly, instead of being greeted with kisses, I was given a cold scowl.

"What's the ma-" I began to ask before being cut off by Sarah.

"Who is she?" Sarah asked.

"What do you mea-"

"I know you're seeing another woman!" she started to tear up as she spoke. "There's no reason to keep lying to me. Just stop torturing me."

"I'm not seeing any other woman! I love you too much!" I replied, but she was unconvinced.

"Then explain to me why you keep going to 'work' without getting paid a cent." _Shit._

"It's my boss. He-" I began to explain, but was cut off.

"Stop with the lies! I'm sick of this! I'm leaving!" She turned away before I grabbed her by the wrist.

"I know you're not going to leave me, Sarah. You're mine!" Sarah tried to pull her wrist away, but I firmed up my grip.

"You're crazy! I don't know why I ever married you in the first place!"

"It's because I'm the only mad that hasn't disappeared. Every man that you've loved before me has gone missing. It must be God's mysterious ways that brought you to me. I'm the only man that didn't vanish."

"You killed them, didn't you?" she fearfully asked.

"I did nothing of the sort. You keep jumping to conclusions without any basis to them. I think you need to be taught who's boss." I pushed her hair to the side and nipped at her neck.

"Now's not the time for sex!" she exclaimed pushing me away.

"I think right now you should be stripping for me, and you should know that my commands are to be obeyed," I reminded her.

"But I don't want to! What is wrong with you? Get away from me!" she cried. Aggravated, I let out a deep sigh.

"You shouldn't be acting so disobedient. You're going to upset the baby growing inside of you if you keep doing that."

Confused, she said, "What are you talking about? I'm not pregnant!"

"Surprise!" I cheered. Sarah went pale and ran into the bathroom. Confirming my suspicions, she began to cry. _She must be overjoyed if the news has brought her to tears._

"I hate you!" she screamed through the door. _Why isn't she happy? She shouldn't be yelling at me._

Before I could think, she ran out of the bathroom and into the baby's room. As I began to walk over to her, she ran past me and out of the door.

"I'm done dealing with your shit, Travis! I'm taking her with me!" she yelled on the way out. As I walked outside, I saw her drive away with tears dripping down her face. _This wouldn't have even happened if it wasn't for that bastard of a boss I have! He took away the one good thing I had in my life! What's to stop me now from losing my mind?_

-000-

Unknown's POV

Just like she has every single night since I've been captured, the masked woman in the hooded cloak came into my room.

"Please, don't hurt me again!" I screamed at the masked woman in front of me. Even though I know it does nothing, I can't help but yell at her. Tears started to silently trickle down my pale face. My body knows at this point that it's about to be in extreme pain.

"Why are you crying again? You're the one who made the deal in the first place. We shook on it," she said.

My body began to tremble at the sound of her venomous voice. I know that she's only going to torture me again, and there's no escaping her. Every day, she wakes me up in the middle of the night for her stupid games.

"You want me to keep your brother safe, right?"

My voice quivered, "Y-Yeah, that's true but-"

"But what? It's your brother's life or yours. You made your choice ages ago, opting to spare England in exchange for your life. You know England's worth much more than you. People care about him, but you're completely worthless." Her words stung like the sting of lemon juice on an open wound, and I know what that feels like; that's what she did to me last time she woke me up at this hour.

It's a good thing that no one actually cares about me. It would be kind of hard to explain the rope burns on my wrists from my pitiful struggles, the dark circles under my eyes caused by being awoken in the middle of the night all the time, the profanities carved into my skin by her, or my hoarse voice after a night of screaming in agony. It's funny how the person that I'm breaking myself for doesn't even care that I exist. I bet that once she actually kills me, he won't even notice that the ashes in the incinerator came from my corpse. Thinking about it is sad, but I know that it's the truth.

Ripping me from my thoughts, the lady picked me up with ease. Before I could think, she smashed my head into the wall. Pain shot through my head in that instant and, like a delicate porcelain doll, my skull cracked from the intense force. A red splash of my blood was splattered onto the wallpaper which would probably leave an ugly stain behind. _Everything I touch is disgusting._

"It's fun to push the limits of what will do you in!" she cheered sadistically. "You're a trooper. I don't know what keeps you going. I mean, no one cares about you at all, yet you never quit fighting."

"No...no more," I barely managed to choke out. My head was pounding like a pulsating heart while blood flowed out of my injury. It feels like my brain is filled with air.

"Are you already tired? The fun's just begun! I've done the same to you plenty of times before, so why are you begging so soon in?"

"So...so tired," I spoke weakly. She laughed at my pitiful body. _What has my life become?_

"Well aren't you in for a treat? Or should I say, I'm in for a treat," she snickered. _What does that even mean?_ "Let's get you out of those clothes," she said as she pulled out a familiar knife.

"P-Please...don't. N-Not again," my pathetic voice croaked in a useless protest.

Just as she had done many times before, she skimmed the knife from my collar to the bottom of my stomach. The fabric teared and fell to my side, revealing my many scars. Across my chest is the word "PUSSY", the first word she carved into me because of how much I cried. On my right hip is "BITCH" and on my left is "TOY." The word "MINE" is carved down my stomach. There's also that burn on the back of my neck that was done to brand me as her property, which I pretty much am. _I'm hers._

The lady said, "Today, I'm feeling hungry for something different than normal. I want to taste you."

My eyes widened at her words, but I was helpless to prevent what she was going to do to me. Bringing her knife to my chest, she began to slice into my flesh starting from the bottom of my neck going down. As beads of red emerged, my chest began to burn. A scream ripped from deep inside me as she cut low and deep. Once my stomach was ripped open, she digged her long claw-like fingers into my organs.

"Stop! It hurts!" I shrieked. Like a waterfall, tears were overflowing from my cheeks and staining my chin as they dried. "You'll kill me!"

"You're completely useless! I don't care one bit about your pathetic existence! Your only purpose is to be my torture victim!" she yelled into my ears. Her fingers slid into my skin with her hands cupping the ends of my ribs. With her brute strength, she tore and broke my ribs apart. Agonized screams were yanked from my lungs and sliced the deafening air, the pouchlike organs squeezing like a bag pipe.

"Is that all you've got? Your screams aren't as pure as they used to be. Give me fresh screams!" She whined through my pain induced howls.

"Ma-a-ake it s-st-o-p," I cried out like a scratched disk. She only snickered.

"That's cute, but it's just not the same as your virgin screams. Well, I shouldn't play with my food." As she spoke, the woman jerked out my left ribs with high-pitched wails to accompany it. Gripping her mask with blood stained hands, she tore her mask off, but my clouded eyes couldn't make out her face. _I won't even get to know who's responsible for my prolonged suffering before she ends my life._ Through tear-filled eyes, I could somewhat see her teeth digging into my flesh. Blood began to drip down her chin as she eagerly ate the meat that was once a part of my body.

"You're simply delicious! Once you eventually die, which you will, I'll have to freeze you and eat you up later!"

"K-kill... kill me," I muttered. Reaching out a bloodied, trembling hand, I repeated, "kill m-me, p-please."

"Do you really think I'm going to listen to the likes of you? It's much more fun to leave you screaming in pain until you've become completely mangled," the sadistic lady said in between bites. "I'll just eat this later. I want to dig into those organs of yours, especially your heart! It's so cute how it's pumping so fast!"

With her witchy fingers, she squeezed my heart. The second that happened, my vision went white as I let out the loudest, shrillest shriek I've ever heard. I thought I would die at that moment, but I somehow lived.

"So pure! What a lovely scream! Let's hear that again!" she said as she squeezed my heart once more. My eyes widened as the same identical pain caused me to let out brutal cries of agony. My head fell back as the white engulfed my vision for a moment. I nearly passed out from that alone.

"Hm, which organ should I eat?" she asked as she eyeballed my body as if it were a buffet table instead of a person. Smiling, she got a firm grip my left lung and ripped it out of me.

Eventually, after hours of this, everything seemed to blend into a blur of nothing but excruciating pain. It was as if I was in a dream between consciousness and unconsciousness. Continuously, for what seemed like years, she kept eating me bit by bit. At some time during my clouded confusion, I snapped back into full awareness. _What's going on?_ What used to be my normal body was mangled beyond repair. Instead of organs, all I had was a bloody soup with small fragments of my flesh swimming in it.

"I don't know how you're even conscious at this point with all that I've done to you. Any normal person would've died hours ago. If it weren't for your pale eyes darting all around, I would think that you had died."

I tried to say something, but all that came out was a gargled mess.

"Did you forget that your tongue is gone? I got sick of your whining, so now you can scream without me having to hear you speak." The floor was pretty much painted in my blood.

"I think it's about time that you say goodnight for the last time. To be frank, I've gotten bored, and I'm filled to the brim with your meat."

"Big brother," I tried to say so that I could see England one last time, but yet again, it came out gurgled and weird. I'd have to do something else.

Dipping my finger in blood, I wrote out "E-N-G-L-A-N-D" on the wall, wallpaper soaking up the blood.

"Oh, you want to see England one last time even though he hates you? That's sweet. I guess it's fine since it's not like he can save you now being in the condition you're in. Plus, it'll be fun to see his reaction."

She stepped out of the room and morning light flooded the room. _What time is it? Does it even matter?_

Shortly after she left, England ran into the room frantically with wide eyes. Weakly, I looked at him and tried to smile.

"Holy shit, what the fuck has she done to you?" he yelled. However, this yell was different than the ones that have been flooding my ears this whole time. This was out of concern and care.

Running over to me, he sat down at my side and gently picked me up to hold me in his arms. His clothes were starting to get soaked in my blood, but that doesn't matter right now. His hot tears began to drip onto my icy cheeks.

"How did this happen? How was she able to do this without anyone hearing?"

"Sound-proof walls," I tried to answer, forgetting that my tongue was gone. More tears fell down England's face seeing me like this.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I let you hurt like this when I should have been there for you. I left you alone when you needed me most and now you're going to..." He stopped his sentence dead in its tracks. We know what's about to happen, but it hurts to accept it.

Reaching my left hand to his right, I shakily grabbed his hand as a small way to show that it's alright.

After a few moments, my body began to feel weaker than it's ever been, and my eyes feel so heavy. _Am I finally going to die? Is this the end for me?_

"It's okay," he assured me calmly even though tears wouldn't stop falling from his eyes. "Go ahead and let your body relax. Just, fall asleep for now so that you can heal, and I'll be here when you wake up." We both know that I'm not waking up after this, but it's a sweet lie that we can tell ourselves for now.

Finally, I let my muscles relax and allowed for my heavy eyes to find rest. The darkness feels welcoming even though I know there's no turning back. Even so, it's a relief. I've been hurting for so long. She won't be able to hurt me for any longer.

-000-

Snapping out of my nightmare, I awoke in my bed with cold sticky sweat covering me all over just like the blood of past deaths. _These nightmares just don't know when to stop._

"Good morning!" a familiar demon chimes. "Odd dreams, huh? Those days sure were something."

"Don't you dare act like that for a second!" I yelled at her.

"You're the one that sided with evil, so it's not my problem that I haven't been the nicest to you in the past."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear that voice anymore!"

"Aw, don't be like that. I'm a creature of malice, so it's just in my nature to be evil. You, on the other hand, don't have a very good excuse. It's whatever though."

I've been through so much. I've been broken, shattered to pieces, and it's not for anything I did. Looking at my nightstand, I glanced at the golden pocket watch. I've used that too many times, and it has taken a toll on my body. _If only England had never given that to me._

-000-

 **A/N: Congratulations to myself for writing about 4.5k words for this chapter since my bare minimum rule is at least 2k. I've been debating for ages how I wanted to progress this story and didn't write for a while because of that. There are so many deep story lines I've formed in my head, but I don't know which ones are good and which ones aren't. There's also the problem of not revealing too much too soon, and it doesn't help that I'm writing about the mystery man in his POV which leads people to figure out who he is too soon. I mean, one person is dead, yet I thought it would be fine to drop this huge background story for good ol' mystery man. Also, don't disregard Travis's role in this story. While he may not be that important now, he will be important sooner or later. Also, I've been thinking of changing the title of the story since this title is generic and hard to find via search engine. I'll post an Author's Note in the next chapter if I do. Anyways, I'll see ya next chapter!**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapte** **r Nine: Suicidal Brothers of Different Times**

 **Warnings: Torture, Death, Suicide, FrUk, Mentions of masturbation and sex.**

-000-

England's POV

I'm not sure when it happened, but I have become aware of my state of being. As always, I'm floating in an endless void of black. I forget why I'm here in the first place, though it's probably because of our captor. Who knows whether I was tortured endlessly or if I passed out from hunger? At the very least, I'm nearing consciousness. Considering that this is most likely at the fault of my masked captor, I'm not sure if I want to awake.

Gently, a stream of light poured into the void like a waterfall from the heavens. _Oh, I must have healed already._ Sooner than expected, I felt myself reach the real world. With the twitch of my finger, I confirm that I am indeed alive again.

"God, what happened to me?" I muttered. My eyelashes are stuck together with stinging eyes to accompany it. Blinking, I try open them. While I am trying to regain the use of my eyes, my ears pick up the sound of loud sobbing. Once the caked on crust is separated, I look around the room. _Oh god, what happened while I was out?_

My dear little brother is splayed out face down on the ground with dried blood surrounding him. A dirtied knife remains in the grasp of his lifeless hands. Looking to the right, I see France curled up in a ball with cries racking his dangerously thin body. Noticing I'm awake, France looks at me with bloodshot eyes. Shamefully, he turns his head and wipes his tear stained-cheeks swiftly. I can't even begin to imagine what atrocities took place during my unconsciousness.

Straining my vocal chords, I utter, "France, what happened while I was dead?" He opened his mouth to speak, but tears pooled down his cheeks before he could try. Holding his tongue, his jaw clenches and I spot his yellowed teeth. The France I know would never allow his teeth to be any less than perfect, though nothing in this god forsaken hospital is right. Noticing my staring, France puts his hand over his mouth to cover the disarray of his dental hygiene.

Shakily, France takes in a breath of air. "Italy is gone," he states. Stray tears spill from his eyes and drop onto his baggy hospital gown.

"What do you mean 'Italy is gone' did he die again? I wouldn't be surprised since the man is always-"

France interrupted, "No, England! Italy is dead forever!" Furious cerulean eyes stab through me like daggers. "I saw it all with my own eyes! He is not coming back from this!" He snaps his head away from me and more tears flow freely.

"That can't be true, France. Unless his nation collapsed, he'll be fine." I try to console him, but he's too worked up to be reasoned with.

France refuted, "Not if he destroyed the heart! That is the most important part of a nation. Even so, if our bodies are damaged beyond healing, we probably die too."

"All of our current beliefs on a nation's death are theoretical. None of the nations that passed left a body for us to investigate. The only one we can be certain of is the circumstance I said before," I respond.

"Have you ever killed a nation?" A chill creeps down my spine when he states that. Eyes wide, he looks at me like he's gone mad. "You do not know the feeling of ending a nation's life."

"Are you talking about-" He cuts me off before I can finish.

"Yes, I am talking about him. Even after all this time, it burdens my mind, but he is no more."

"E-even so," I stutter, "was his heart or body destroyed?"

"I don't want to think about this anymore. Let's talk about something different."

"Okay then. So, onto the next important matter, can you explain why is America dead?"

Bluntly he says, "Oh, he killed himself shortly after you. He must have been hearing voices or something; he kept murmuring things like 'yes, I'll do it, England' and 'aren't I a good boy, England?' I think the burden of our situation has broken America."

"I agree. If we can survive, it's going to take a lot of effort to fix the damage that's been done."

"If Italy has already fallen victim to him, who is to say we will not join him?" France articulates.

Sighing, I say, "Well, we should at least be a bit hopeful. Sure, everything is a sack of shit right now but it's going to be a bigger sack of horse shit if we lose all hope."

"That is one way you could say it," France states.

My eyes dart to America's corpse at the sight of sudden movement. Just as I did moments ago, his body twitches, and life comes back into his body.

"Ugh, what happened?" America groans. In an effort to get up, he pushes himself of the ground but that results in him tearing the flesh on his stomach. A scratchy wail escapes America's mouth.

"Why didn't you bother to put him in a better healing position?" I snap at France.

"Would you want to touch him after going into shock?"

"Yes, I would because I care about other nations!" I refute.

France yells, "Italy died permanently after you too took a nap with death! You don't know the hell I have had to face alone!"

"Wait, Italy's dead?!" America questions.

Ignoring America I quip back at France, "So you couldn't be bothered to at least pick him up so he wouldn't heal incorrectly? I see how it is. You just don't care, do you?"

France's face scrunches up with his brows shifting. "You say I don't care while you are the one that tore your flesh apart even when we told you not to!"

"I did it out of self-sacrifice!" I exclaim.

"You did it for your selfish need to escape reality! You left both America and I distraught and you see what happened because of that!"

America hollers, "What the hell are y'all talking about? What happened to Italy?!"

"Shut up, this is not about you! England is calling me selfish when he is the selfish one."

"I'm not selfish in the slightest! Who filled your belly when you were starving?!" Bitter tears pool at the edge of my eyelids threatening to spill at any slight movement.

"Who caused America to kill himself?!" France argued. Droplets of saliva follow the harsh words from his mouth.

In defense I shout, "Who didn't help America after he killed himself?!"

"I killed myself?!" America squawks in the midst of the chaos.

"Shut up!" we both yell.

"I have done nothing wrong! I do not understand why you are so upset at me!" France cries.

"I hate you, France! I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I don't want to be associated with the likes of you!"

"Guys, calm down!" America shouts, "If you two fight, how are we supposed to focus on escaping? We need to work together!"

"He has a point, England."

"Shut the hell up, France! I don't want to hear it." I want to be civil and agree with him, but my pride and stubbornness conflict with that.

"C'mon, Iggy, don't be like that." I don't budge. Instead, I opt to walk into the far left corner and ignore them. _What a traitor! America should be siding with me!_

I mutter, "Maybe I'd be better off killing myself again."

"What did you just say?" France asks.

Louder, I reiterate, "Maybe I'd be better off killing myself again!"

"See, America? He wants to escape the world again and leave us with the burden of his corpse."

"Guys, can you please stop fighting?" America whines.

My eyes dart to the bloodied knife in the middle of the room. Hastily, I snatch the knife from the center and stand with the knife pointing at my heart.

"I'll do it. I'll fucking do it!" I yell.

"I fucking dare you!" France bleats.

"England, put the knife down." America says calmly, though his eyes are widened and his body is shaking like a leaf.

With a bitter tone, France replies, "No, let him do it! It will be much less of a headache on our end if we do not have to listen to his constant whining."

"No one here deserves to die!" America refutes.

"Well it sure would make shit easier on the both of you if I offed myself, wouldn't it?" I respond.

"You're wrong! We need you to stay alive, England!"

"America, he is clearly not strong enough to live. We are in a survival of the fittest situation, so if he chooses to end his life it is not my problem."

"So you think that being mentally unstable is worth death? What is your problem, France?!" America yells.

"I am not going to let England think that he is higher than he actually is! He thinks he is so great for killing himself so now he is doing the same thing in order for us to praise him!" _Oh, so that's what he thinks of me? I'll show him!_

"I am not doing this for something as selfish as that! It's clear that you two would benefit if I died!"

"Do you think I am going to eat your flesh like a filthy savage again? I am not going to do that! I hope you have fun rotting in here because I am not touching your disgusting corpse once the deed is done."

A tear rolls down America's cheek. His voice wavers as he shouts, "Do you even hear yourself? You're pretty much encouraging him to end his own life! That's just not right at all!"

"It is clear that England is merely bluffing! He will not end his life, and I know that!"

"Bluffing? You think I'm fucking bluffing?! I hope that I haunt you in death!" With the knife aimed at my heart, I nearly thrust it into myself, though I'm interrupted by a familiar person.

A bright light fills my eyes and a chipper robotic voice stings my ears. My grip on the knife releases. The clatter of a knife echoes throughout the room. As usual, the hooded man appears in front of the screen though something is different about him. _Has there always been a red splatter on his mask?_

"Hello, captives!" he cheers, "Now that you are all awake, I am happy to inform our little nappers of what happened. You see, Italy is gone forever. I shipped his head not too long ago so Romano should have that at his door soon. That is, if Travis could manage to deliver it properly."

"Today I have something special planned! Guess what it is. If you said another experiment, you're right! I'm not going to go into detail, but let's just say it'll make you wet yourself, emphasis on the wet!" He giggles like a girl at the joke and continues, "Now it's time to spin the wheel and find our next special victim!"

My eyes are glued to the screen in anticipation as the wheel spins. With one person dead after weeks of torture, it's only fair to assume the same fate of the next unlucky person the wheel lands on. Gently, the wheel starts to slow until it halts on a name.

"Well, look at that! Russia, you've been chosen!" I breathe out a sigh of relief since I haven't been chosen, though I can't help but feel bad for the poor sap. _The captor seems to have an odd strategy; first, he killed one of the weakest captives, but now he's going after one of the strongest. I'm certain that the wheel isn't a game of chance since Italy was deliberately targeted, so what's the point of this?_

The screen flips to the footage from Russia's room. It seems as though he killed the two he was roomed with, though the blood on their hands and knives centimeters away from them implies that it was self-inflicted. _Maybe Japan and China had a suicide pact that Russia wasn't in on. Or they could have done it to avoid torture since you can't torture a corpse._ The blood is dry and caked, so they died quite a while ago. On the walls of the room are paintings of flowers that seem to resemble sunflowers. _Was this his way of coping?_

"Alright, lunatic, time for the experiment," the man states in his usual garbled speech. Russia turns to face him.

"Why did they die?" he asks quietly. "They left me all alone in here."

"Anyone with a brain can tell that you killed them, psycho. You even had the gall to paint with the blood of your victims. Anyways, you're coming with me."

"What? I would not hurt them! They left me!"

"I don't care about your stupid lies, so stop trying to make me believe that you didn't kill them. I don't even care that they're dead. After all, we- I mean I, kind of encouraged you to kill your roommates."

Russia began to tear up. "I am all alone."

"Yeah, whatever." The cloaked man points the taser at him nonchalantly and activates it, shocking Russia. Screams omit from him as his body convulses, and the Goliath falls under our smaller captor.

As per usual, the screen goes dark momentarily. During this, I decide to finally sit down and wait in anticipation.

"What do you think is gonna happen to him?" America asks.

"He is going to be tortured just as Italy was," France responds.

America says, "Well no shit, Sherlock! I'm not a idiot!"

"It's 'I'm not an idiot', America," I reply.

"Wow, I didn't know we were in English class. Save the corrections for a better time; we're about to watch someone get tortured."

"I hope it does not get too violent," France muttered. "I do not think I could handle it after what I have witnessed."

The screen clicked back on. Shown on the screen is a mostly empty room. The only thing in the room is a strange clear chamber with tiny holes in the bottom of it. A weak Russia is sitting cross-legged in the chamber with his head hanging down.

The cloaked man is nowhere to be seen, though his scrambled voice can be heard speaking, "Wait until you see what this thing can do! The chamber will activate in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…"

After the countdown, water begins to seep from the pores of the chamber floor. Oddly enough, Russia seems indifferent.

"Oh, just water?" he asks.

"Just water?!" the man yells, "Just water?! Do you even know how painful it is to drown?!"

"What a peaceful way to go for now," Russia murmurs and sighs. "After what I have seen from you, this seems so calm and relaxing.

"Oh now you've done it!" he screams and the television cuts off.

"What's going on?" America inquires. "Shouldn't Russia have known not to anger the guy? Now he's gonna get it."

"Perhaps that's what he wanted," I chip in. "Even though the deaths of his roommates were suicides, maybe he feels guilty and somehow responsible, and he may think that he deserves to be punished."

"I dunno, that Russia dude doesn't seem like the kind of guy to feel guilt."

"He's still a person like us, America. Just because you two used to have a petty nuclear dispute back in the day doesn't mean he's lesser than us," I say.

"You know Russia's a weirdo, though."

"And what does that have to do with this?"

"It might just be that Russia's not scared of him. Russia's got balls of steel."

France being the pervert he is chimes in, "Ah, so what was that about Russia's balls? Are you suggesting that you have been in bed with him?"

"You know exactly what I mean, France! I would never sleep with a stinking commie! Don't be a dick!"

"Dick, hmm? Oh I can be the best dick you have ever had if you ask politely."

Disgusted, I yell, "God, France, I swear! You never know when to stop with your stupid dirty jokes!"

"And you never know when to stop with the sexual frustration. Why not do things like we did back when that one was younger? You know you miss mon dick."

"For the love of god, stop! Now is not the time for sex, especially in front of America!"

"So if he wasn't here, you would want to?"

I hesitated a moment. _France has pleasured me in the past like no other, but god, what am I thinking?!_

"You have not responded. Is that a yes? America, turn around while the grown-ups have their fun."

"We will be having no fun right now! Stop trying to fuck me! You have a right hand, so use it!" The thought of France masturbating does sound arousing. I would probably get a bit turned on as well. _Oh, what am I doing?! His stupid presence is the demon of lust in disguise!_

"I am merely joking with you, Angleterre. No need to get frisky with me!"

"This conversation is over!"

America butts it, "Ugh, you stupid old hags need to stop talking about this shit in front of me! I don't want to think about France's limpy cock in my brother's ass!"

"Hey, my cock is not 'limpy!' It is still as youthful and firm as a college kid's."

"Again, I don't wanna hear about your ancient dick!" he refutes.

"If you insult my manhood one more time, I will castrate you on the spot!"

"And I will file a restraining order upon our escape!"

Before France can say anything else, the TV turns on and everyone is silent once more. The time for joking is over.

Now, Russia is chained to the wall with his hands stretched out. The man is standing in front of him with a knife at Russia's chest.

"You don't know how much pain I went through! You think that drowning is a relaxing way to go? I'll just have to use a more effective method of torture on you since you clearly don't understand anything about death!"

With his gloved hand holding a firm grip on the knife, he skims the blade over Russia's chest causing the hospital gown to tear. The man rips off the rest of the gown, leaving Russia bare except for his boxers.

"What are you planning?" Russia asks.

"Shut the hell up! I don't want to hear another word from you!" Russia closes his mouth.

The man takes his knife and begins to carve into the flesh on Russia's chest. Russia's eyes snap wide open as his back arches. A blast of an agonized screech shatters my eardrums.

"Why are you doing this?!" he yells.

"I said shut the hell up!" The man hastily yanks Russia's tongue from out of his mouth and hacks it off with the knife. Blood gushes out of the area as Russia cries out in pain.

"There, now you can't talk," the man says in the usual scrambled monotone voice.

Russia's eyes quickly redden before tears flow down to his chin. He attempts to scream out a response, but only bloodied spitting and throaty cackling come out.

Seemingly unfazed, he continues with the carving. More tortured screams come forth followed by crimson floods of blood from his mouth. A clear 'P' is engraved onto him.

The man says, "You sure seem to cry a lot, don't you? It reminds me of someone close to me." The P seeps out blood as Russia continues to shout in miserable bloody gurgles.

The man then takes the knife and, ever so slowly, begins to write more.

Russia tries to squirm away, but all his efforts are only causing a commotion of clattering chains.

"You can't escape me," he taunts. "This is your new home, Russia. You will live here like a pig in squalor until you die like a dog. You are merely my plaything until you get worn. Once you're all played out, I'll throw your body away like garbage, and you will be replaced. Your life means nothing to me."

Russia shakes his head and continues to squeal from the torment. The screams are so loud that they can be heard all the way from my room without the TV broadcasting it.

"Hey, stop that! You'll mess up your tattoo!"

Ignoring him, he continues to fidget. The man doesn't seem to think much of it, so he keeps on carving out the letters. Because of his movement, Russia ends up causing more pain than necessary since keeping still would probably end it faster. Blood coats Russia's chest. The lettering is now hard to make out, but the motion of the writing looks like a 'U'.

Moving on to the next letter, the man stabs into the meat and makes a clear 'S' into his chest. Delirious, Russia blares out raw screeches that echo throughout the facility and tries to rip himself away from the wall, but the chains hold their ground. More blood pours out of his mouth leaving his neck covered in the sticky crimson ooze.

Another 'S' follows the first. The salty tears rushing down his face mix in with the metallic blood pooling underneath. A normal person would have passed out by now, but nations like us are cursed with a higher tolerance to normally fatal things. The already pale face of Russia's becomes nearly paper white from all the blood loss.

A whine escapes his stained face as the man pierces him with a final letter: Y. Too exhausted to continue his desperate screams of pain, he merely whines like a tired dog. Once the word is formed, the man stands back to admire his handy-work. He nonchalantly flicks off the blood from his knife.

Finally, Russia succumbs to a temporary death at the hands of the man. Weary eyes flutter shut, and his body slumps over with him dangling from the chains bound on his wrists.

Once the TV cuts off, I realized that I've been shaking. Cold sweat coats my clammy skin with goosebumps scattered throughout my arms and legs. Along with that, the room feels much chillier than earlier.

I huff out a sigh, though I didn't realize my breath was being held in the first place. I swallow my saliva and look at America and France. Both have the same reaction as I did to the scene.

"God, how much longer will it be until we get rescued?" America asks.

France breathes out a loud sigh before replying, "We might not ever get rescued. If it has been this long, how do we know that they are even looking for us?"

"They have to be looking!" I snap back. "We are some of the world's strongest nations!"

"They would benefit from our disappearance, no? With us gone, someone else could rise to power," France states.

"Our leaders wouldn't want us gone," I point out.

"But they would become much more powerful with us no longer being at the top."

"Guys, can we stop talking about this kind of thing? I don't wanna think about any more depressing stuff." With that, America lies down and passes out on the spot.

"We should get some rest, too," I say. France nods his head and we both lie on the ground. I can't find myself able to fall asleep, though I'm sure I will end up passing out eventually.

-000-

Unknown POV

"It's kind of weird how I regained control even though it was originally your turn to torture someone," I say to her.

"Well, that man did insult your first death. I wanted to watch you take your anger out on him," the demon replies. "Besides, there are plenty of other opportunities for me to torture."

"Now, can you not give me any weird dreams? I don't need to experience my previous deaths again."

"Sorry, sweetie, no promises! It's fun to watch you squirm in your sleep as I torture your mind. Doesn't it give you nostalgia for the good ol' days?"

"No, not at all. Who would find nostalgia in torture except for a freak like you?"

"Eh, I've met people like that."

"I'm going to bed. No bad dreams."

"I can't guarantee anything!"

Ignoring her, I flop down on the bed and fall asleep.

-000-

Too many people have died because of that woman. Everything has been miserable since Italy's death and it just got worse as the others joined him. It's impossible to figure her out, and yet I still tried my best to do just that.

Even though I tried my very best, I know what I must do. I've already made the arrangements with her, so this will be my last day alive. My death will let England live through another trial. He's much smarter than me, and I know that he's much more capable of identifying the woman. If he can figure out her true identity, we can escape. That was what she told us on the first day.

Today is a trial day, and I already talked to her about volunteering myself last night. She thought my self-sacrifice sounded hilarious. I already know that I'm completely useless, but she didn't have to rub it in.

Right now, I sit in my normal place in the jury. Her "trials" are just a way to mock us for our mistakes and sentence us to death. I hope that we can just avoid it for me since I already know that I have no purpose; I can only benefit the others through my sacrifice.

The lady said, "Hello, captives, and welcome to our trial. As you all know, I draw a name from the hat and put that nation on trial. After you are tried, I sentence you to a fitting punishment. However, today is a little different. A certain somebody has chosen to volunteer to die." She pointed at me and mewled, "Come on up!"

I looked to England and saw his eyes widen. "No, it can't be," he murmured. I gave him a melancholic smile and walked up to the front of the courtroom.

"I don't think he really needs a trial. After all, he was foolish enough to give himself up to me without a bit of a fight. Besides, he already knows that he's practically worthless. I sentence him to death as I've done to everyone else." She took my hands and used a rope to tie them behind my back. She knows I wouldn't try anything, but she can't take any chances.

Afterwards, she led me to the all too familiar Execution Room. So many people have died in here, and now I'm going to be one of them.

"How do you want to die?" she asked. "I don't normally offer this to the others, but I didn't plan yours since you told me so short of notice."

"What do you mean about planning?"

"It was pretty obvious that the selection was rigged. That's why I laughed at your stupid self-sacrifice spiel. Anyways, how do you want to die?"

"I'm dying for nothing. I really am completely useless," I muttered.

She sneered, "Aw, that's cute. If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going to kill England anytime soon. I've planned for him to be the last to die since the very beginning."

"Oh, there really is no point for me to die. Is it too late to change my mind?"

"Definitely. It's not like you were going to last much longer anyways. This was originally going to be America's death day, but you interrupted that. I don't really mind; I'm actually anticipating how England is going to react to the fact that you're pretty much killing yourself. He'll be devastated!"

"I'm sure England will be fine without me. He never cared that much about me anyways."

She groaned at my response and said, "Okay, whatever. Now, tell me how you want to die."

"I think drowning would be nice. It sounds like a relaxing way to go."

"Let me just get what we need and you'll be all set."

After a few minutes, she brought a clear tank in and set it in the middle of the room.

"Here it is! Let me just untie you and put you in." She went behind me and loosened the restraints. Then, she opened one of the panels like a door, and I stepped in. The tank was a little cramped, but it wasn't too bad. She shut the panel and locked it. "Have fun!" she chimed.

On the other side of the glass, the first one to enter the room was England. His eyes were reddened as tears trailed down his cheeks.

"Why? Why would you sacrifice yourself? You know I care too much about you to let you die like this!" he shouted.

"I thought that I could help you by dying. You'll be able to live through another trial and find a way to escape." I choked back the tears that threatened to spill. Even though I now know that my sacrifice is for nothing, I'd rather pretend to not know that.

"You didn't have to do that! You should have talked it out with me!"

"It's too late for that. At least my death won't be bad; I think drowning could be nice. Considering all the other deaths like starvation, impalement, and sleep deprivation, this is pretty tame."

More tears poured out. "I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough brother. I neglected you when you needed me most, and I am sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me. It's fine. I would have died anyways, so I'm glad that I get to die for something useful."

A few of the other nations joined England on the other side of the fence. Some of them looked like they wanted to say something, especially America, but they stayed silent.

Finally, the water began to rise from the pores of the floor. I cracked a smile seeing it. I looked up and my smile dropped. England was bawling into America's shoulder while the other nations looked down mournfully.

"Hey, you don't need to cry for me!" I exclaimed. "You'll be just fine without me!"

England turned to look back at me. "No, it won't! How am I supposed to live on with you gone?!"

"I am useless, so stop worrying about me! This is what I wanted!" Nonetheless, he continued to cry. "Please, don't feel sad about my death."

America yelled, "You don't know how much you mean to us! Do you even realize that we've been fighting this whole time to protect you?"

"What?"

"We wanted to make sure you were safe, but now that's ruined."

The water slowly rose to my knees. My unnoticed tears began to drip off my face and blend into the water underneath. A pang of regret hit me. _Oh god, what have I done._

Soon, the small trickle of tears erupted into a fountain. I could no longer hold back my tears, and the hot droplets kept flowing out endlessly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, England!"

The water reached my waist level ever so slowly. My breaths came in rapidly in and out. With a sudden desperation, I struck the panel with my fists.

"I change my mind! I don't want to die!"

The lady standing in the corner said, "Sorry, it's a little too late for that. You should've thought things through more."

"Please, don't torture me anymore! Let me go!" I shrieked.

"The pain won't end until you die."

I shook my head. "There's got to be another way! Wouldn't you rather keep me around?! I know you would just love to toy with me some more!"

"I've gotten bored of you. You have no more purpose with me," she stated in a monotone voice.

"No, please! You can do whatever you want to me! Just don't let me die!"

As the water rose to my chest, I knew that she was right. The only way out is death. _I did this to myself. I'm a selfish, worthless toy._

"Goodbye. I'm sorry I couldn't help all that much. I hope you'll be able to escape without me."

Finally, I crouched down so that I became engulfed in the water. A muffled scream came from the outside, but that doesn't matter anymore. _In death, nothing ever matters. I'll be gone forever, but I'll be at peace._

I opened my eyes to take a final look at my surroundings. England was hitting the barrier, begging for me to come back to him. Everyone was screaming, but I'm sitting still. _The water is so calm._ Watching bubbles of my last breath of air floating to the surface was almost therapeutic.

As expected, my lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen. My body desperately wanted to rise up and take another breath, but I won't allow it. Instead of prolonging my death, I inhale and let the cool water fill my burning lungs.

Once I did that, my body seemed to go into survival mode. It rose to the top of the tank to take in any life-saving air it can get, but the tank was completely filled. I scratched the top panels senseless. The bottom of my nails hurt, and bits of blood arose from my worn fingers. In my dire search for a breath of oxygen, I hit the panels with all that I had. My lungs were burning and kept trying to push out the water, but the effort was only met with more water in my lungs. I tried to scream, but all that came out were meek bubbles that rose up and were lost in seconds.

Even though I hadn't been struggling for long, I already felt exhausted beyond belief. _Maybe I would feel better if I closed my eyes. My eyelids are so droopy, so how could it be wrong?_

I shut my tired eyes and let the darkness consume me. _Why does this feel so right? It's like all the pain is going away for good._ Before I knew it, I was dead.

-000-

Shooting out of bed, I take in a deep breath. _It's just a dream; she can't hurt you anymore._ The stench of nervous sweat floods my nostrils. I step out of bed and take off my clothes.

"Don't you know that giving me nightmares of my past makes me hate you even more?" I grumble.

"That's cute! You know, I really don't care about your feelings all that much. And it's not like you can get away from me. I'm going to possess you until you stop providing me with what I want, and you know that you'll die an agonizing death if I leave your body."

"I know, Mal. You tell me that all the time."

Malice, a.k.a. Mal, says, "I only remind you so that you know what's at stake. Even though you're dying no matter whether I had interfered or not, you know that my death would be so much worse than your puny little nation death."

"I wonder what it feels like to die as a nation. I've experienced plenty of temporary and permanent deaths over the years, though I've never felt myself dissolve. Do you think the watch would give me a restart after that?"

"I don't meddle with your weak magic charms. That's more of an Earthly person thing."

I look down at the golden pocket watch and open it up. The seconds hand continues to tick in sync with my nervous heartbeat. _It's so weird how the seconds hand likes to do that. The other hands relate to all the timelines I've made, though this one ticks with me._

I close the pocket watch and mull over all the timelines I've caused from all my actions.

-000-

 **AN: Happy anniversary! I can't believe it's already been a year since I started writing this! This story has filled my thoughts for so long, yet it feels like time is going by too soon. As a special treat, this chapter is six thousand words! I think that's the most I've** _ **ever**_ **written for a chapter. Sorry I couldn't put this out yesterday on the actual anniversary, but for once in my sad life, I actually had a busy weekend. Though with the anniversary drawing to a close, I realize how slow this story has been progressing. I guess I should write more often… Anyways, I'll see ya in the next chapter!**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten: Corruption**

 **Warnings: Torture, Implied Animal Abuse, Blood, Violence, Sexual Humor.**

-000-

Unknown POV

I walk into Travis's musty Computer Room. Lately, he hasn't seemed alright; his hair is a shaggy, unkempt mess, and there are dark circles under his eyes. "Hey, Travis."

"What is it, sir?" Travis asks. He sounds bored, though it seems more depressed to me. A breath smelling like alcohol escapes his chapped lips.

"First off, I'm worried about you. Even though I could care less about your well-being, I need to make sure everything is alright; you can't be very useful to me if you're a mess." I do care somewhat about Travis, though he can't know that. _He'll just take advantage of my sympathy and start slacking. Travis is just an obedient tool for me to use. If I care about him too much, I won't be able to dispose of him if I have to._

"It's not anything you'd be concerned about. My wife left with my daughter because of this job. She thought I was having an affair since I wasn't making any money."

"Well, on the bright side, this is your first payday!" I say cheerfully, though the happiness is forced.

"Why couldn't you pay me sooner?" he asks. His brows furrow, and I can tell he wants to hit me.

"It's not my fault that Romano didn't pay the ransom money! You can blame him for that!"

"You promised me plenty of money to support my family! Now, I don't have that, so what is the point of doing this?!" he shouts. Spit flies from his mouth, and he rises from his seat with wobbling legs.

"I'll kill you if you try to turn against me!" To emphasize the point, I pull out my knife.

"I have nothing left to live for! And you can kill that stupid bitch of a wife, too! I don't care!" He began to storm away, but I grab his wrist.

"You're not going anywhere!" I pull him backwards and embed the knife into his right shoulder. He screeches in pain like no one I've heard in the month I've been here. _Travis hasn't ever experienced the intense pain that the others have. He's like a virgin to torture. Even though he hasn't wronged me, why do I want to hurt him so bad? The others that I tortured were for a purpose, but him? All he did was oppose me, yet I want to see him writhe in pain._

"What the hell?! Why would you do that?!" Travis yells. _Such a beautiful little voice. I have to hear more! I don't care if this is probably Mal that's influencing these thoughts; I want to see him suffer because of me!_

"You're going to be punished for your rebellion, Travis!" I cackle like a madman. "Your screams are just too beautiful for me to resist torturing you just as I have with my other captives!"

"Don't do this to me!" he begs, realizing the hole he just dug himself into. Truly, someone that isn't gifted with immortality will naturally fear death, for it is an uncharted, uncertain territory. "I won't be nearly as fun as them! Humans are much more delicate! You'll probably kill me!"

"And that's what makes it so beautiful! You humans are very replaceable, though I'm a bit fond of you. I might not kill you, but I can't make any promises!" _God, I'm starting to sound just like her. What has Mal done to me? Whatever, that's not important. What I want is to see Travis's suffering!_

Quickly, I flip him over and bind his wrists together with a zip tie from the desk. _Ah, his struggles are so adorable!_ Even though I've already hindered the use of his hands, I decide to use the taser on him for good measure. His muscles violently convulse at the sudden jolt of electricity coursing through his feeble human body, and I'm loving every second of it!

Once he passes out, I pull him off the ground and sling his body over my shoulders. With a little bit of magical aid, I carry him with ease to one of the hospital rooms in which I use to inflict torture on my victims. This time, I chose to put him in the same room I tortured Russia in since I never bothered to remove the chains. I also never bothered to clean up that pig's mess, so cakes of dried blood surround the area. _Maybe that will add to the shock of it all. He'll learn his lesson and become more obedient out of fear._

I take my knife and cut the zip tie. Dragging Travis's limp body, I bring him to the wall and fasten on the handcuffs. _I hope he wakes up soon. My thirst for blood is raging._

I slap Travis on the cheek in hopes of waking him up, but to no avail. _Oh, yeah, humans are more fragile. I should have listened to him. No! Why would I listen to a traitor like him?!_

In hindsight, I probably should've turned down the voltage on the taser. The voltage I usually use is good for nations since it only makes them weak so that I can move them without letting them completely pass out. However, using that same high voltage on a human could make them pass out for a little while with the worst outcome being death.

"You win, Travis," I mutter even though he can't hear me. "I guess you get away with your misbehavior this time, though I won't let you off so easy next time." I release him from the handcuffs, but an idea strikes me which makes me want to put them back on him. _What if I kept him in the hospital? He wouldn't be able to rebel if I strip him of his privilege to roam as he pleases in and out the building, and it would teach him a lesson. Wouldn't he want to leave after I give his privileges back, though? Even if I didn't keep him here, he would still probably leave the second I let him go considering I stabbed him in the shoulder and tased him. I guess Travis is my new little human pet from now on._

I fasten the chains back onto Travis's wrists. Afterwards, I leave the room to get proper room stuff for him. _I mean, he's a pet, not a captive. It would be wrong to not give him room-y stuff. Treating him like one of my captives would only make him more inclined to escape while treating him nicely would keep him around. Also, with his wife ditching him, this hellish hospital could easily be his little safe haven from the harsh reality of his broken home life._

I go into my bedroom and pull out two of my spare blankets and extra pillows. Since the first blanket is really thick and soft, it'll be his makeshift mattress for now. Since we just got paid by Ukraine and Belarus, I can buy him a nice little bedroom set up with his cut of the money. _Wait, does he even need the money at this point? If I keep him here and treat him nicely, that should be payment enough. If he feels the need to complain, I could always remind him who his master is. Besides, owners don't give their dogs money for their company; dogs are payed through being well cared for, so it's a mutual relationship. Maybe I should give Travis a collar in order to shoehorn in the point._

Once I get the blanket and pillows, I go back into Travis's new room and set up his little bed area. _With the money from both of Russia's sisters, Travis will be living like a king, so he won't even think about leaving! That would also mean I won't risk accidentally killing him during a punishment. Also, I could feed my captives, I guess._

My captives' concern about the nonexistent food supply could allow for me to make a game out of that. _Maybe I could have captives sacrifice themselves in order to give food to their roommates. The whole rigged wheel of torture was just getting boring. It will also make sure I can get a steady income from concerned family members. And Mal won't have to pester me about not torturing the captors one-on-one enough. It's perfect!_

It's a fresh new day for fresh new systems, so why not start that up now? _Oh, I haven't bought any food yet. Well, that's nothing a simple trip to the grocery store can't fix, but I don't feel like going out. And now I can't just send Travis to do my chores since he's not allowed to leave the hospital._

I wish I could just get my groceries delivered here, but even if this place didn't look like a dump, how is someone not going to be suspicious of me getting my groceries sent to a hospital. _I could pose as if I'm a busy nurse that doesn't have time to shop for myself. Wait, that wouldn't make sense! Why wouldn't a nurse just send the groceries to their house? Then again, these delivery people are mostly underpaid workers that stopped caring years ago. The constant barrage of disrespectful customers demanding that they get a discount on something as menial as a dented can lest they demand to speak to the manager has broken those workers' souls._

At that realization, I go to the computer room and visit the nearest store's website. I use their new online feature to pick out simple perishable foods. I purposely made sure to only choose those types of food so that the need for more food allows for more ample victims. _And I bet those bastards would hoard their food if they had the opportunity._

I hit the checkout button and wait. After about half an hour, the groceries arrive. Beforehand, I used magic to enhance the appearance of the hospital. I never bothered to polish up the exterior before now since it would attract people in need of an operational hospital.

Now that I have some food available, it's time for the fun to begin!

-000-

France's POV

"Good morning, captives!" the man on the TV blares, startling me awake. "I have a special surprise for you!"

After rubbing the crust out of my eyes, I squint at the bright screen. With blurry vision, I can make out his arm holding up something red.

Even though it does not make sense, all I can see is Italy's bloodied decapitated head being held up by the hair like a prized fish. _"Did you miss me, France? Hm? You let me die and all you could do is watch!"_ the severed head screeched.

My eyes widen and I begin to tremble. "No," I mutter, "I could not do anything to help you."

" _You are a dirty liar, France! You could have at least tried to escape, but you were too afraid! What a coward you are! Look at me now, an ugly rotting corpse! It's all your fault!"_

"France, are you alright?" England asks. I shake my head.

"I did not want you to die. I am sorry, Italy! I only watched you as you died!"

"Dude, calm down! Those are just apples! Takes some deep breaths or something."

A few hot tears trail down my face. All I can see is Italy's head. _They are calling him apples even though that is clearly Italy! He has come to haunt me!_

England, showing some rare kindness, crawls over to my corner and puts a hand on my shaking shoulder. I jump at the sudden touch, so he gently shushes me and rubs my back in the calming way a mother does to her child.

"It's alright, France. I know you have seen traumatic things in this place, but the thing you're seeing on the screen is not what your eyes are showing. That is a bag of apples."

I sniffle a bit and choke out, "So Italy is not there?"

"Italy is not on the screen. Italy is in heaven," he softly consoles.

"Yes, Italy is in heaven. He is with the angels and is happy, no?"

"Italy doesn't have to hurt anymore. I'm glad that he is in a better place. And knowing Italy, he's probably frolicking in a sunny flower field nude."

I chuckle. "That is true." After England's kind words, he goes back to his usual spot in the room.

England explains, "Now, in the real world, the man offered everyone food if a person was to volunteer for torture. Of course, the food is only given to the people of that room so it's not a free for all. I was considering-"

"No! You cannot volunteer yourself just for some food!" I argue.

"Yeah, you can't let yourself go do that! As the hero, I won't allow it. Hell, I was gonna offer myself just so you two wouldn't have to deal with any more than you already have."

England refutes, "As your older brother, I cannot let you get harmed!"

"I haven't had to deal with much of anything! I've been spared while you two have been suffering all on your own! Italy died while I recovering from my selfish suicide! I'm supposed to be there for people, but now France is traumatized from watching Italy's death without anyone to comfort him, and you killed yourself to feed us. I might as well return the favor."

I say, "Do you not realize that your torture would only cause us more turmoil? Every bite of food would be like poison because it was earned from the blood you shed."

"We all need to be strong in order to escape and without food our bodies can't do their very best. Besides, isn't sacrificing myself for the good of others the definition of a good soldier? I mean, our men fight for the sake of our countries and sacrifice their lives for the well-being of our citizens, so I think I'll be fine dealing with a bit of torture for you guys. And with our escape plan, keep in mind that the masked guy is not only a nation but also has strong magic abilities. How will we be able to fight back if we're weakened from starvation?"

"I have magic too!" England points out.

"And exactly why haven't you been using it?" America asks.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure. My best guess is that this place has an anti-magic barrier that prevents magic users other than himself from using magic within the field. It might also be why none of the other magic nations haven't been able to trace me by my aura since magic also can't reach outside of the barrier. At least, that's my current theory."

"That sounds logical. I was wondering why you had not already used dark magic to summon the devil," I quip.

America butts in, "Okay so it's agreed that I volunteer myself?"

"Just because I dabble in magic does not mean I'm a Satanist!"

"With an ungodly white completion like that, I had assumed that you were a demon. My mistake!" I sneered.

"So is that a yes?" America asks.

Distracted by our conversation, England says, "Yeah, yeah, make sure to include your brother. And I am not that pale, France!"

"Were you even paying attention to America?" I ask.

"Are you implying that I don't listen to others?! God, you're always out for me, lover boy!" America snickers at the comment.

"You two never changed from when I was a kid. Still telling me to include Mattie like when I would go out to play."

"Maybe I would not be at your throat if it you admitted your love for me!" I bark out without consideration. _He really should pay attention to what little America is saying, but maybe his self-sacrifice will be alright. If he wants to do it, he can go. I will just keep the black sheep occupied._

"What? I don't love you in the slightest! Someone as shameful as you probably has me in the center of your wet dreams, stupid frog!" he shouts.

I sneer, "Oh, really? You only wish for me to be climaxing from your image! Your ugly eyebrows are an immediate turn-off if anything!"

A beacon of light pours in from my right as the door opens with the man, for once, not tasing us. Instead, he stares blankly into the room, waiting for a response.

America, standing up, raises his hands in front of him and smiles, though his eyes show sadness and fear. While that man cloaked and disguised wears an unsightly plastic mask, America's artificial smile is a mask on the verge of breaking. "It's me that you want. I volunteer to go through whatever sick shit you've got planned if it means they get to eat."

"Oh, perfect," the cloaked man coos. "I have yet to torture you, and I can't wait to break you in!" Hastily, his gloved hands strangle America's pale wrists with a rough rope. America does not put up a fight and instead stands still despite the door being left open and ready for the taking. _His statement about us needing to regain strength is unfortunately accurate. I cannot even try to stand with my body trembling as hard as it is. Whether it be from fear or low blood sugar, I am not strong enough to challenge that man._

Before being taken away by the man, America turns to the both of us and gives a pitiful smile. "Please don't cry to much when I'm on the screen. It's already bad that I'm going to be in pain, so make sure not to look if it's too hard on you."

"America, you can't do this!" England yells, stretching his hand out to reach America. "I won't be able to live with myself if you get hurt on my watch!" Shaking, England tries to stand up to take his place, though he stumbles like a baby deer.

"Save it, big bro. Just let the hero handle this for now." And with that, he is dragged away. The door slams shut and clicks, leaving everything silent.

Glossed over eyes begin to flood with tears as England breaks down. He lets out an anguished scream and slings his fists into the ground in defeat. Intense sobs wreak havoc on the already weak man. Snot and tears quickly drip onto the cold floor.

"Why him?!" he shouts. "He's so young, so naive! He's clueless as to what hell he just plunged himself into!" _America saw the tortures just as we did. He is aware of the danger he is in, though he is going in anyways._

"Take me instead! I deserve to die if I let him suffer in order to feed me!" All his screams fall on deaf ears since America has already been taken. _We're so helpless in this mad world._

"What kind of brother am I if I let him get harmed by that man?! Forget it, America! I'm going to scream in agony with you because seeing your pain gives me pain too!"

-000-

America's POV

I know that what I'm doing is undeniably right, but why does it feel so wrong to go through with this? _He can give me whatever he wants if it means helping those two after all they did to help me out, but everything in me is screaming to escape from his evil grasp. I don't want to feel pain, but there has to be some painful sacrifice in exchange for what they need._

"What do you have in store for me?" I ask, smiling despite my growing fear.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything," he snarls, "You'll find out soon enough."

He directs me to a pristine, white hospital room. The pungent smell of bleach burns my nostrils at the first breath I take in. Although the room smells like it's been thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom, the floor has remnants of a red substance staining the white floor. The only thing in the room is a post and some boxes covered by a cloth. The man turns me around and ties the end of my rope to the post. For some reason, to my right, there's a glass pane that has a different room.

"Does this room ring a bell?" he asks in a dastardly tone. _What the hell is he talking about? I've never seen this room before._ "Never mind, you were asleep during the execution. It doesn't really matter all that much where you are sitting anyways. What matters is the little friends you have to keep you company." He lifts the sheet to reveal three cages. Each holds an angry, snarling dog with foaming mouths.

"What the hell is your problem?!" I yell. "If you're going to torture me with animals, at least vaccinate them! Those poor dogs are suffering, you bastard!"

"They were going to get put down anyways, so I don't see the problem with keeping them around longer in order to torture you."

"How would you feel if you were deadly ill, but no one granted you mercy and put you to rest?! It wouldn't feel great, would it?!"

"Oh you shut your mouth! I'm giving them a tasty last meal before I send them off to get euthanized."

The man pulls a jar of peanut butter out of his pocket, and happy memories of Liberty flood my mind. Before all this, she loved to go on walks to the park with me, and I would treat her with a scoop of peanut butter for being such a good girl. _She's probably worried sick about me. Mattie better be treating her like a queen while I'm gone._

Instead of treating the dogs to some of it, he instead spoons out some and rubs it on my chest.

"Dude, what the hell?! Give the dogs some! I can see their bones!" I shout.

"Idiot, can't you tell that you're the food? Those things' minds are gone and all they know right now is that they're hungry. Fortunately, you'll get to be their little treat."

I get that the dogs are going to rip me to pieces, but my experiences with dogs leads my mind to imagine them merely licking the peanut butter off. Then again, my mind is probably trying to numb itself to the trauma that I'm about to go through. _I can just do the thing I always do and detach from this. It doesn't feel as bad when I distance my mind from my body._

He leaves the room and I can already feel the dread trying to crawl up on me. _I'm all alone with no one here to help me. There's no hope, so I might as well just let it happen. No one can prevent this, so why fight at all?_

Foamy snarls, aching growls, and musty fur cloud my senses. Rotting garbage lingers on the fur of the strays and slithers up my nostrils. _They're so hungry, and I'm the food._ Eager claws scratch at the metal bars like nails on a chalk board. _It's like sitting at the top of a rollercoaster before the drop, only I'm not in this for fun._

The drop comes as a loud beep fills my ears. At the push of a button, the cages are opened and they jump straight towards me.

Plaque covered teeth sink into my chest, hack off a chunk of flesh, and shred up the meat. Not even aware of myself, I screech. My nervous system is on the fritz blinking with the red warning signs of pain. Black nails burrow into me digging out more of my flesh until they bury their bloodied snouts into the hole they made and gnaw on the still-connected flesh. My vision is blurred by tears, blending my surroundings into a mix of red and brown. Hardy gulps from the dogs jab at my ears accompanied by my pain filled screams. Saliva mixes with my blood, turning my chest into a sticky soup.

Meat gets ripped out, tearing at the ligaments as salty tears add to the soup. Spots are already starting to cloud my vision. _It would be so nice to pass out already._ My eyes start to flutter, but they snap open and bulge out as one of the dogs reaches my ribs.

"Fuck!" I yell. Burning pain hovers over the area. I yell again as they keep gnawing on the bone until they manage to jerk it out along with cartilage and flesh.

A flash of white blankets my vision. I bang my head on the wall with a wave of nausea following. My body, already weakened from hunger, can't handle any more. My eyes don't even try to focus before I slump down where I am.

-000-

Unknown POV

 _I can't go on like this! I'm going to lose my mind to her all over a foolish grudge!_

"You know I can hear your thoughts, idiot!" the demon herself whines in annoyance. "Besides, I only took control for a little while because you were being a pussy!" Her voice sounds akin to a wood chipper to my already aching head, worsening my growing headache.

Memories of an old reset coarse through my head in a flash. Engravings on my chest burn despite them never being on my body in this reset. "Don't say that word to me!" I yell aloud.

She snickers. "Aw, poor wittle baby can't handle it when I call him a mean name! Fucking tragic," she snaps, "That happened ages ago, so when are you going to get over it?"

"It's you that is the problem! I'm fed up with being your plaything! I'm done with this! Get out of my body and get out of my life!" I scream, smacking my head against the wall.

Her voice drops from the normally high-pitched level to a normal tone. "I told you the consequences that would come from such a rebellion, but alas, you are a mere infant compared to my eons of life which leaves you with little experience. Fortunately, your body itself is useful, though I find the mind attached to it incredibly annoying."

I refute, "I don't care anymore! I've died thousands of times, so go ahead and add another one to the collection! I tried to save people who don't care about me, and I'm tired," I drop the anger for a moment and sigh. "So damn tired."

"Aw, that's cute! Our interactions in the past were like a game of cat and mouse. Has my little mouse already lost motivation? I figured you would at least fight for another century. Do you realize how long you cycled through time?"

"I got tired from counting after around a hundred resets. It's been a long time fighting, huh?"

"A millennium, kid. You've been at it for a thousand years. For your species, that's nothing to sneeze at."

"Has it really been that long?" My words trail off into nothing important. _It's no wonder I'm starting to break down with it being that long. One thousand years sure passes by quickly when you've cycled through billions of failures. I spent all that time trying to save them, but I never succeeded._

"They are ungrateful for the work you put into saving their lives! You have to remember why you did this in the first place! All the sacrifices you made, but they paid you back by leaving you to die!"

"But do _they_ deserve to die?" Slowly, I'm beginning to realize that, even though my reasoning seemed fair in the beginning, I shouldn't be killing the people I spent so long trying to save.

"Stop that! We need them to die! All of them deserve to perish! Don't you want to live in a world where you're the supreme ruler?"

She clouds my head with fantastical images of people bowing down to me. Everyone respects my authority and heeds to my every beck and call. I'm on top of the world and no one can stop me, for I am the greatest man to ever live. _This scenario could never happen! She's just polluting my head to get me to keep obeying her!_

"I know exactly what you're doing, Malice!"

Disappointed, she sighs. "That's a shame. With a mind as feeble as yours, I was hoping I didn't have to do this. Of course, you being an absolute idiot, you had to push me to my limit. I'm going to lose my mind too from the utter exhaustion you keep putting me through. You know, I love to punish you, but it's just so tiring! And, if you decided that you're fed up with me, let me return the favor."

Trickles of what I assume to be magic gently drip into my veins with a slight sting. Unlike magic I've used, this magic looks like droplets of ink shrouded in circles of smoke. The purple veins in my wrist darken as the magic spreads, changing the sting to a fiery blaze. Skin at the tip of my fingers fades to gray as I let out a wail.

"Scream on, little bastard, because the corruption has only just begun!" Her shrill voice is like murder as it makes its way out of my head and escapes through my lips, blending both our voices into one. "Just think, your captives will receive the same pain once I take the seven vessels you owe me!"

"No one should suffer anymore! I'm tired of hurting!" I scream to the heavens. _Whatever godly force rules over has turned a blind eye to my pain, yet that shouldn't be an excuse to become a dealer of ultimate suffering. To let them become her playthings would be the worst fate imaginable. Over all this time, I have become corrupt because of her toxicity. Her tainted demon soul has ruined any remaining purity left within me._

"I tried to keep you obedient, I really did. All the wrath that I instilled into you should have been your driving force. It worked the first time I had to reel you back, but you decided to rebel. Despite this, you will still be the vessel for the original sin since it's your pure soul that I used to strengthen the power of the seven."

Tears cloud my eyes as my rage increases. "I refuse to be your puppet of destruction! Kill me and damn my soul to eternal suffering, but don't use my body for your stepping stool to corrupting humanity! I don't want my short existence to be reduced to your evil!" The more I scream, the worse the pain gets. Tears fall freely as the magic flooding my body worsens, and the inky black shoots up my arm. My entire arm grays and bits of skin flake off from the sheer force. A shriek alike to her voice shreds through my vocal chords until my scream isn't my own. I try to suck in a breath of air but my lungs feel like they're filled with tar. Just like the first death I ever experienced, the first death and the original timeline before the enchanted watch reset hundreds and thousands more, I'm drowning. _It looks like I've finally come full circle. Will time finally let me rest forever? If so, I don't deserve it. I belong in Hell._

With the remaining strength I have in my arms, I rip off my bloody mask and look at myself for one last time. My once tan cheeks flake away as gray spreads over my face, and my once sea blue eyes have become a glowing red. The only thing still looking like me is my hair, yet even that isn't mine. My blond hair reaching down to my thick eyebrows is all from my big brother, the one that gave me the pocket watch and cursed me to be a slave to time, England.

A surge of magic stabs through my chest and sends the fire throughout every remaining bit of me that is left in my aching body. As more of it cascades through my bloodstream, a pang of drowsiness hits me. _Is this finally the end?_ Bits of magic seep into my brain and burn into every neuron within.

"I'm almost done taking you over, kid. Take a good look at yourself before you completely lose control. Take a good look at the little boy before the tragedy. Take a good look at Peter."

 _That name sounds familiar. Is that me? I think that's my name, but it's been ages since someone called me by my human name. In most of the resets, I was disregarded. And now, the disregard for the boy who was once Sealand will be replaced with shame. My rotting little fort in the middle of the sea will be a symbol of suffering._

In a final burst of pain, every nerve in my body is set off. Like a flame striking gasoline, my entire being is in agony. The burn has become an explosion of torment. Pitiful attempts to scream don't register to my body. Instead, the drowning feeling remains as a reflection of myself smiles at me.

"It's over for you, Sealand. I bid you farewell. Don't worry, I won't let you die. Instead, I'll give you a front row seat to the end of all times. You can see the world through your eyes, but everything else belongs to me. Have fun taking the passenger seat!"

-000-

 **A/N: This series isn't even close to ending. Actually, this is only the beginning. While the first question raised has been answered, there will be plenty more to come. Sorry about not updating all that much. Sometimes life weighs you down and you just have to get used to the thought of never amounting to anything. Mental health is in the gutter, energy is in the gutter, and self-confidence has been stewing in the gutter for years. I hope I'll see you in the next chapter, but I know most of you have probably left considering I never update. To you, I'm just another content creator among billions of others.**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven: The Boy Stuck in Repeat**

 **Warnings: Blood, Death, False Realities, Suicide Mention**

-000-

Sealand's POV

I've died so many times that death doesn't feel like anything separate from living. Constantly phasing from life and death, having all my progress reset upon every failure, every death from someone else or myself breaking me into nothingness has left me longing for my soul to reach peace. Those other countries are different than I am. They will only experience permanent death once and it'll all be over. Their souls haven't cycled on an endless loop like mine has. This time was supposed to be the end of my suffering, of everyone's suffering, but Malice is a powerful demon. Her seeds of sin have sprouted from a soul that should have never existed. After all, I am a fluke of nature.

It's as they say, the road to Hell is paved through good intentions. I walked along Hell's path and had its flames lick the soles of my feet before turning too corrupt for my once pure soul to ever be redeemed. I should've known that her corrupt nature would be too much for myself alone, yet I wanted to try and take her to the grave with me. She put me through Hell, and I wanted to send her back.

Even so, this "death" isn't a true death, so the watch will not reset time for me as it has before. With my body still breathing and my heart still beating, I am still considered alive despite my soul being in a state of death. For now, I'll be trudging through limbo. She may have said that I would still view the world through my body's eyes, but I see nothing but the shroud of darkness in my state of "death."

A white flash wipes away the darkness; a wave of blurry color replaces it. Blobs of beige and blue blend in a blur. I rub my eyes and find the room around me returning to focus as bits of eye crust are wiped away. _Did the watch reset anyways? The white flash of light is just like a reset._

A familiar blue wallpaper covers the walls in sailboats. _This is my room._ Every reset starts this way, so that must be what happened. I'll never know how that timeline ended, but I think I'm better off not knowing how it went down. The only certain thing is that Malice hasn't been defeated and everyone died; otherwise there would be no reset.

I never know how each timeline ends since I always die before she is defeated. I only know what I was able to see during that time, so my knowledge is limited. No matter how hard I try, I never reach the ending of the time before I'm reset again, and that's exactly how she wants it. If I can't see the ending, I can't defeat her fully. Even if Malice is to be defeated in that one time line, she lives through the resets just like I do.

"Peter, it's time for breakfast!" Dad calls.

"I'm coming!" The hardest thing about each reset is being limited in my moments of normalcy. There's only so long that I can enjoy this time before I end up getting kidnapped by the person possessed by Mal. It's irritating how I can't just say, 'hey, there's a deranged demon possessing someone and she's going to kill me and my loved ones' because it's always passed off as a bad dream until it happens. Then, it's too late to nip it in the bud when we had the chance. _I really don't want to go through another time line doing the same thing. It's always the same ending, and I still have yet to find a new one._

I hobble down the stairs longing to crawl back into my bed and be the obnoxious kid I was before all this chaos. I really would do that for old time's sake if it weren't for the fact that I would be late to the meeting. _I can't try to change time if I'm not there._ I felt so useless during the one timeline when exactly that happened. _I'm already absolutely useless so what's the difference?_

"Make sure to eat up, Peter! Today's a big day!" Dad chimes. _Today is a much bigger day than you know right now._

I feign enthusiasm with a smile. "I know! I'm so excited to go to the meeting!"

"What? Peter, I'm sorry but we did that last meeting. Don't you remember? We got McDonalds afterwards since you wanted it so bad."

"Sorry, Dad, I forgot. I guess I was in a really deep sleep just now. Deeper than I thought." _Something's not adding up. Every reset starts on the day of the attack. This reset is acting like nothing happened._

Papa looked up from his newspaper. "Peter, your big brother is coming over to watch you while we're at the Nordic meeting today." The doorbell rings, so he sets the newspaper aside and pushes up his glasses. He opens the door and England comes in. Seeing England perfectly fine is odd, yet it's so perfect for him to be okay for once. _Have I gone to Heaven? That's the only way this could be happening._

Before I realize it, tears are spilling down my face. "B-Big brother! You're safe!" His eyes widen with concern and mostly surprise. I plunge my face into his midsection and cling onto him. "I'm sorry! I'm so very sorry!"

"Are you alright, lad? Usually you don't show this much remorse after setting up one of your petty pranks before your parents take you back home. I'm not pleased about getting salty corn flakes, but there's no need to be this upset. I'm not going to punish you for that considering it happened a month ago."

"You're alive!" I shout without thinking about it.

He sighs before asking, "Did you have a nightmare or something? If so, then there's nothing to worry about. I'm perfectly fine and well."

"Y-Yeah, just a nightmare. It's no big deal. No one in the real world is dead." I stifle the urge to break out into messy sobs and instead wipe away my tears. _Was everything really a dream? Were all the deaths fake? There's only one way to find out._

"England, do you have the Kirkland Watch?" I ask.

"That's a weird question. How do you even know about our heirloom? I didn't think I showed it to you considering you have a tendency to mess up my things." He pulls out a familiar golden pocket watch from his coat. On it, the Kirkland name is engraved. "Before you ask, I'm not giving it to you just yet. This is a special watch. I would only give it to you if the situation was dire." His face changes with his eyes widening in realization. "Please tell me you haven't been using this watch." Both England, Dad, and Papa stare at me, waiting to hear what I say.

"Why would it matter if everyone is safe now? This is a new timeline, isn't it?"

"Oh god, you have used it. I absolutely need to know what happened to cause you to need this watch."

Before I can answer, everything around me blurs as it did before. All the colors around me melt into blackness once more.

A high-pitched woman's voice rings through my head. "You weren't supposed to question the reality I put you in! I was trying to pacify you, but that's would be too easy for you, wouldn't it? I could give you a second shot at a fabricated utopia, but you would tear it apart just like you did to your body. It's your own fault that bad things happen to you."

I try to cry out, but my lungs feel like they're filled with tar just like before.

"Such a stupid little boy. I don't feel like babysitting you in the back of my head while I prepare ample vessels. This body is still fueling the sins, so I'll have to start aligning these pathetic captives with a sin while they incubate. For you, I'll just send you to sleep."

Within an instant, my mind shuts down and I plummet back into the curtains of darkness.

-000-

America's POV

"I'm going to guess you're a sodding wanker," England says in a snarky 'I'm better than you' voice.

France, sounding offended, remarks, "Charades is no fun if you just make rude remarks towards me. Shall I guess that you are the human embodiment of sexual tension?"

"You're an absolute pig! Does your mind only think of sex and drama?"

"I think of much more than that. You, however, only think of me and how much you want to-"

"I'm cutting you off there! I don't want to hear another word!" England huffs.

I let out a loud groan as a dull aching returns to my chest. I force my eyelids apart to see England pouting as France sits down. I assume they've been occupying themselves with charades, but I don't know why they try if it always ends on a sour note. _Why doesn't France just cut it out with the dirty jokes and mend their friendship?_

The two look at me. England's eyes tear up as he pounces on me. "Oh, America, I was so worried about you! It was absolutely awful to watch you getting mangled!"

I wince in pain and gently push him off. "Careful around my middle. I did just wake up after getting torn to bits by dogs." _Saying it like it's a casual thing will make him stop caring about it, right?_

England wipes away a tear, smearing a bit of my blood on his cheek. "Sorry about that. I was distraught watching what you went through, so it's a relief that you're okay."

I look down and see that my torso is wrapped in blood soaked bandages. _Clearly this person doesn't have first-aid training._ At least I had something to cover up the gaping hole in my body, but this man better not try to do this shit on a human.

"It's kinda weird that the guy decided to wrap me up, albeit poorly. Italy didn't have any bandages when he was constantly experimented on, so why the change?"

France's face droops into an expression of melancholy. "That poor boy. I am still doubtful that he is truly dead despite seeing it for myself. Besides that, it is odd that he suddenly decided to bandage you up. Do you think he is feeling remorse?"

I say, "I would hope that he's regretting all the chaos he's causing. If we're lucky, he'll decide to let us go. If not, we'll all be six feet under."

England's eyebrows furrow as his face contorts with frustration. "I don't understand why someone, presumably one of us, would want to kill us all. Sure we haven't been the best of nations but does that really mean that everyone deserves to die?"

France speaks, "And the tiny hint at our captor's identity is that he is related to you, Angleterre. Considering your world-conquering mission those many years ago, a good portion of nations could be considered a brother of yours."

I press my knees into my chest and think. _How many brothers does he have?_ "Let's name off your family. There's me of course."

"There is also my little Canada," France says. His face drops again at the thought of Canada being the one inflicting torture on us. "God, I hope Canada is not responsible."

"There are my older brothers, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. I'm not fond of those three considering their constant bullying when I was young. Is there anyone I'm forgetting?"

"Yeah, you forgot the little dude! Y'know, Sealand?"

England scoffs. "Sealand? That boy can barely maintain what's left of his fort. How is he supposed to go conquering when he's always busy trying not to drown?"

I raise my eyebrow. "You do realize snide remarks like that could have set him off the edge? What if you fucked him up and made him evil?"

"Me? Make that kid evil? I doubt our petty squabbles meant anything. I was softer on you than I am with him. Then again, you weren't constantly trying to get on my every last nerve."

France coldly sneers, "You are a sour one, Angleterre. Words hurt more than you think, especially to a child who looks up to you so much."

England's eyes are downcast. "Perhaps I forget that he is only forty years old compared to my thousands of years." He quickly changes his tone and says, "But it's not like the little bugger would actually care about what I think. Our bickering is mutual."

"This is like pissing in a violin! I am done arguing with you!"

"God, frog, if you're going to say some stupid French saying to me, don't directly translate it into English or you might as well say nothing for all I care! Your odd sayings are incredibly stupid, even in your native tongue?"

"Well, the phrase literally translates to 'pissing in a violin' so it doesn't make much sense in English. Why is it that I have to accommodate to you and your native English-speaking tongue all the time, yet you still complain? Why is it that we cannot speak French? I know that you learned it."

I give up on the argument. _While I do love him, my brother is a prideful man._ "Hey, let's just drop this for now. Instead, can you fill me in on anything that happened while I was out?"

England says, "Surprisingly, nothing really important happened. Your recovery was awfully quick compared to how long it takes me to heal."

France smirks, "It looks like your age is starting to show."

"You're older than me, dumbass," England quips back.

"Even so, there is a brand new invention called moisturizer that can help you maintain your youthful glow as I do. You should give it a try when you get the chance."

"I know what moisturizer is! At least I'm not a sissy that spends an hour tending to my face alone!"

"You can only dream of having perfect skin such as mine! You will always feel like tree bark while I am still in the prime of my youth with skin softer than silk. You are merely jealous of my retained beauty!"

"I will never be jealous of your indulgence to vanity. I am prideful, but not as disgustingly self-absorbed as you are."

"I am not self-absorbed! I care for others as well as myself. I work hard to maintain my appearance, so do not put a damper on all my hard work!"

I pipe up, "Cut it out, both of you! I get that you both like to fight with each other, but I'm not in the mood for it!"

France glares at me. "I am below petty squabbles. It is his fault that I am always roped into them."

I roll my eyes at the remark. _Those two will never get along._

-000-

Russia's POV

It is a relief that I died recently. Through the agony, I will learn how to behave in the perfect way to keep from getting hurt by the person behind the mask. I must always study people to avoid them hurting me. No one will ever be exempt from that rule because no one is to be trusted. Some people like to cause pain while others are destined to get hurt. My methods lessen the pain inflicted on me.

I trudge over to the slumped over body in the corner and crouch down to observe its face. Japan's eyes are still blank as ever, and caked on bits of blood still remain all over his stomach. I would doctor him in hopes of his recovery, but he would only kill himself again. _Is this the third suicide?_ The only use that their bodies serve is to make my art or to fill my needs for attention. The beautiful painted sunflowers on the grey walls are made from death just as nations are. Collapse brings new life in the decaying corpse that is Earth. _Maybe I will fade away peacefully. Drowning is not painful like the cuts I endured earlier. I will have to study him carefully to avoid such an event like that._

Bored, I prod at Japan's arm. There is no response since he is dead once more. _Is it cowardly or brilliant to cause your own temporary death to avoid the unwanted present? The answer would depend on the person and that answer can be used to evaluate a personality._ People are like complex machines, though instead of cracking them open to see how it operates, I have to watch the person constantly to map out proper responses to make.

I scratch at a scab on Japan's chest until beads of red rise above the crusty flesh. Bits of dried blood are added to the collection of other bits of flaked off blood underneath my fingernails. I continue to pick and scratch as more and more red bubbles flow up to the surface until there's an ample amount for me to use. I dip my finger into the pool forming on Japan's chest and begin to write on the wall above his body.

 _Trait: Man finds comments about torture to be demeaning towards him._

 _Trait: Man is fueled by anger and acts impulsively once angered_

 _Past: Man may have drowned before_

Once I think of enough to write for now, I let my arm fall slack to my side. _How much longer will I be alone in here with these quiet bodies?_ Any semblance of another human's company would quiet my buzzing mind before I start to see the things. Even close, intimate company would be better than this thick quietness. If someone were to give me love, I could forget everything.

As I look at the dark wall for too long, I begin to see formations of non-existent things. Tiny wisps of sickly, human-like figures wander in my line of vision. Many of the figures are severely deformed, yet they all resemble the same vague image of a boy.

"Can you see me?" One asks with sad eyes staring into mine. "No one else sees me." His body looks normal except for the bruises formed around his neck with a rope trailing behind. Though it is hard to see, I can tell that the boy's hands are an ugly purple.

"Do not worry, little boy, I can see you still," I respond. "No matter how many times you ask, I will still answer you with a 'yes' every time."

His glazed over eyes dart to the side. "It's my own fault that I died. I was hoping to be put to rest." His hands fumble with the rope around his neck carelessly. "This version of myself will forever be trapped in time while the true 'me' trudges on."

I smile with no thought and say, "I do not think I will ever understand your babblings about time. I am sure your soul will eventually find rest."

His face shifts with sadness. "I can never find rest until the true 'me' finds a way to break free from her. I happened a very long time ago, so there will probably be many more failed versions of myself to come before we all reach peace."

"Do you always talk vaguely? I could help you if you explained what happened."

He jerked his head away from me. "My time was pathetic, and it's embarrassing that I ever thought that hanging myself would fix the problem. Now I'll be stuck in repetitive resets until I either find a way to defeat her or pass off the watch. Only problem is that I don't have control anymore, and my existence is that of a fraction of his spirit to serve as merely a marker in time to avoid repeats of timelines. I wonder how long it will be until there are no more pieces of his soul left to implant into that watch."

"Indeed, time will only tell."

Silent tears cascade down his face as he fumbles more with his rope necklace. "No matter how many times we talk, I'm never satisfied with your answers." Just as he came, the boy fades into the surrounding darkness. I never cared for the mysterious ghost-like people appearing, but they occupy me from the worsening reality around me.

As I often do, I lay down and nestle myself between the two cold bodies. Carefully, I turn them both over to face me. I pick up China's arm and place it behind my back to give myself the faint illusion that he's holding me. I pull Japan closer despite the pooling blood sticking to my clothes and wrap his arm over me to hold his cold hand.

"Oh, Japan, you are so incredibly cold!" I exclaim. "It seems as though the weather outside is awful. The walk home must have been difficult even with your coat on." Just like a child, I play pretend with my 'dolls.' "Do not worry, darling, because I will warm you up!" I rub my face into China's chest.

"You are cold as well, China. I told you to bring a scarf just like I do, but you did not want to listen. When will you learn, China?" I pull China closer like a teddy bear, but the scent of blood is too strong. Coughing, I yell, "China! You did not even bother to shower before getting into bed! I will forgive you this time, but do not dare to crawl into our bed like this again without expecting to clean the dirty sheets."

"Japan is not smelly, unlike you," I pause talking for a moment. "Do not worry, I still love you very much! Both of you are beautiful!"

Tiredness creeps to my eyes before I realize it. As my eyelids grow heavier, I embrace China and Japan with the last bit of strength I have left. _I hope that one day these bodies will not be the only ones giving me affection._

-000-

 **A/N: So as I finish my proofreading, I'm at school under lockdown: shelter in place. I want to eat lunch but I have to wait until they finish investigating. It's shit like this that makes me want to go to that private school I've been eyeballing. I hope my little sister isn't scared. She may be under lockdown too since her school is across the parking lot. I can't reach her phone, so I don't know how she's doing. You bet that she's getting a lecture when we get home. As I sit in the band room waiting for an update, I long for lunch and better gun control. I'll see ya in the next chapter! (hopefully in a safer circumstance)**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve: Eat Your Heart Out**

 **Warnings: Suicide Mention, Obsessive Love, Choking**

-000-

Malice's POV

 _That kid is so annoying. I'm doing all this work for him, yet he decides he wants to be rebellious just because he doesn't like my way of working. He was so loyal at the start, but his stupid emotions got in the way. Now I have to babysit his soul as the sins grow._

So far, I already have that one vessel ready for a sin. The only problem is that I wasn't able to clearly infect him with it while he was alive. _I should've expected I would mess up the first time. I'll just have to do better for the other six._ Before I can kill anyone else, I have to establish the sins in each one. _It's so much work but it'll be worth it once I get Lucifer's recognition for it._

The subtle work of infecting the sins is difficult and takes time. With them incubating in the child's body, I can only release a small amount. I won't be able to put an entire sin into a vessel to its full capacity until after it's done feeding off his soul. The sins have barely taken anything considering his fantasy crumbled so fast. _That stupid kid just has to make everything difficult. Would it be better for me to design him a Hell instead of Heaven? Even if I did let the sins feed on his fear and sadness like before, it wouldn't be as effective as feeding on his happiness; his happiness increases the flow of his purities._

I'll give him another happy dream later. For now, I have to let bits of the sins go into the vessels. With the seeds of sin starting to grow in the vessels as well as incubating in the boy, it will become much stronger and the entirety of the sin can go into effect much faster.

I've been sitting at this computer all day watching the security tapes around the hospital. In order for the sins to be most effective, I have to see which people are most susceptible to each sin. _No one seems to be showing any prominent sins. I would have to subject them to something that will show which sin is most compatible for them._

The current starvation experiment hasn't wielded the results I was hoping for. Instead of someone deciding to murder for food, room one had England sacrifice himself, room two did nothing, and room three had Japan and China kill themselves. And the room that did have cannibals didn't even want to resort to that until England forced it upon them. _Should I let this continue and hope for results or should I discontinue this one and attempt something else?_

For now, I should probably try to get another sin while I wait for someone to succumb to gluttony. With two subjects already showing signs of clear sin, I don't want to interfere with the infection of their specific sins considering I already put some fragments in them. _Envy isn't the most prominent sin, so how am I supposed to see if that sin is naturally within a subject? Unless I were to play a "the grass is greener on the other side" sort of thing, then it would be difficult._

If I were to give one group a necessity and another group a different necessity, then I could expose someone for envy. Both would be getting something, but the envy sin would still be jealous of the other. _I hate the envy sin so much for its difficulty to find, yet it is one of my prime motivations._

I turn off the tapes and walk into the media room. I put on the stupid disguise the boy made and flip the camera switch on.

"Hello, captives, I hope you're ready for a new experiment. This one, fortunately for you, will not be painful. Instead, you will be getting something very good without having to work for it. I bet you'll be surprised that there is no catch in this. There will be two groups. Both groups will be given furnished rooms since I'm sick of seeing you lie on the ground like savages. One group of people will be given an excess of food and drinks to enjoy to their hearts' content. The other group will be given safety from experiments entirely along with medical care. Both groups get something, though you may find that the grass is greener on the other side. Regardless of your feelings, the people in each group will be chosen at random since it doesn't matter to me which one of the two rooms you go into."

Since the wheel takes too long, I decide to just list names off the top of my head. Since Peter hasn't been here to tell my who is who, I had to take time to learn everyone's names. I think I've gotten pretty good in this short amount of time.

"The first group that will be receiving food and water will be China, France, Italy- never mind, that's the one that died, and England. The second group receiving safety and medical care will be Russia, Japan, America, and Germany. I will get all the necessary supplies in a few days, so you now have something to look forward to. Also, I will be coming by today to take away the knives from the last experiment. Goodbye!" I turn off the camera and trudge over to the computer room again. _What was that shopping website called? Maybe that kid was a bit useful…_

-000-

Russia's POV

I have been sleeping by them all day waiting for them to wake up again. The masked man came by a few days ago to take away the knives, so now they cannot kill themselves anymore. The promise of a comfortable bed and safety has had me excited since I heard about it. The only problem is that my dear China will be taken elsewhere. _I want to be able to snuggle in bed with both of them! We should all be put together! Of course, it is good that China will be well-fed, but I still want him to be with me. I want them both to be with me._ As I lie with China, I feel depressed that we will be separated.

Feeling a surge of wanting, I hold on tighter against his chest as I nuzzle myself into him. The smell of blood still remains strong, though I have grown accustomed to it. Even though flakes of dry blood are sticking to my hair and face, I snuggle with him regardless. Despite his corpse staring blankly at the wall, I find him beautiful.

"Oh, China, you need your rest. Do not force yourself to keep your eyes open for me." I gently push his eyelids back over his glossed-over eyes. "There you go, little star. I am not sure if that is how you say zvyozdochka in English, but it does not matter. You will always be my sweet little star no matter the language I say it in." I brush my calloused fingers through his tied hair and allow the ponytail to come undone. "You look so much better with your hair down. I hope you do not mind." I smile warmly at his face pale like milk. My heart, once locked away from all, is cracked open for these two. Every second I see them dead causes my saddened soul so much suffering. Every putrid, pus-leaking paper cut is picked painfully until it pours out, turning the tiny paper cuts into tormenting trenches.

"Why? Why do you leave me every time your eyes meet mine?" The dam breaks and droplets latch onto China's bloody chest. "I love you with all my heart, but you would rather tear yours apart!" Droplets become a flooded waterfall as I bawl into his chest. With both being dead, neither can comfort me no matter how desperately I want them to. Dreams of them holding me tight could never come true, especially since they hate me so much they would rather be dead than love me.

The light of the television illuminates the dark room. "Captives!" A shrill, ear-splitting voice exclaims, "It's time for you all to be assigned to the two rooms. Since the budget has been enhanced with recent ransom money, primitive stun-guns will not be used. Instead, the ventilation system will release a gas that will lull you to sleep. When you wake up, you will be in your new rooms. Goodnight!" The room becomes dark again.

I hold China for dear life since it may very be the last time I will ever hold him. While I will be receiving safety from experiments, China will not be safe from this man's wrath. I would be completely helpless as his demise plays on the television for the world. Clutching him tighter, I let more tears fall.

"I am sorry that I cannot save you, China!" I sob pitifully to his lifeless form. English melts into my native Russian as I scream, "I am so useless! I cannot save you!" My words tremble along with my fearful body. _I am merely a toy for the man in charge. Nothing I say or do can save China from a death akin to Italy's end. I can only pray that some force beyond myself saves our broken souls._

In between hiccups and ugly cries, I hear a faint hissing sound. The air I am struggling already to take in is getting denser, not because of my pathetic crying but because something with the smell of sugar water is entering the air. My eyelids feel heavy as I take in each breath. _This must be the sleeping gas that he mentioned._ Before I am aware of it, I am engulfed into a pit of darkness.

-000-

When I wake up, I notice that there is light coming from above. I look up and see lights on the ceiling. For the entirety of the time we've been here, there has been no light aside from the television light. The bright lighting, despite actually being darker compared to normal ceiling lights, hurts my eyes. I close my eyes tight in hopes that my eyes will adjust, but they continue to sting. _I suppose they will not adjust unless I try to open them._ Hesitating, I try to open my eyes. Opening them too far causes pain, so I settle for just squinting.

I realize that I am lying on a bed instead of the cold floor. Having lied exclusively on the floor since we have been here, my back has ached so long that I stopped paying attention to it. Now, the aches are resettling in as my muscles try to recover from the discomfort. I sit up and stretch. I hear a loud, satisfying pop and lie back down. _I feel as though I cannot leave this bed. It is too comfortable and warm for me to want to leave. After sleeping on the floor for so long, I should enjoy this bed for a little while longer._

I can see America, Japan, and Germany sleeping in their own beds as I lie on my left side. Japan's face, earlier a pasty white, has started to regain color. He has not completely regained all of his color, but he should be waking up soon. I cannot see Germany's face clearly since he is the farthest away from me, though I can see that he is pale and the area under his eyes is darker than it should be. America, on the other hand, looks to be fine other than his cheeks that look as though they could cave in.

I stare intently at Japan, the man I have been lying side by side with, and feel the strong desire to climb into his bed. _I need my sweet Japan's love. I want to breathe in the same air he breathes out. Our lungs will be synced to each other with the other organs joining. His heart will beat in response to mine, his brain will be filled with the same thoughts as mine, his stomach will fill with the flutter of butterflies just as mine does, and he will wrap me in his arms just as I have. We must join as one._

My mind is reeling, every thought pushing me to get as close as possible to him. _I have to crawl into his bed. I need to smell his oily hair that lingers with the scent of gentle flowers. I have to hear his heartbeat! No, I need to hear his heartbeat!_

I sit up and the warm covers slip away from my chest. The cold from before creeps up on me, but I cannot stop. _Japan is all I need._ I turn my body to the left and stare at Japan. His chest rises and falls gradually. _I need to breathe with him._ When I stand up, I feel compelled to sit back down. _Japan needs my body heat. I need Japan's body heat._ I take my first step, faltering when my toes cramp up. _It has been a while since I have walked._

I ignore the rising pain as it slithers up my leg and instead focus on getting closer to my beloved. Each step brings me closer to him, so I must take every step necessary. _I must join my beloved, Japan._ I walk over to his sleeping body and feel my breaths shortening. A small smile spreads across my face as I step closer. I stand at the foot of his bed, admiring him as he lies there. I examine every detail of his face for that is all I can see of his face from here.

His soft, black hair is disheveled, the strands perking up in areas normally flat. His eyebrows look the same with each string-like strand flowing in the same direction akin to a dark stream. His dark brown eyes are covered by light eyelids like a chocolate-filled pastry. His cheeks are ever so slowly regaining color, milk turns into a delightful caramel. _He is so incredibly beautiful, even more so now that he is regaining his health. I must cuddle with him._

I push the covers aside. Japan, still asleep, doesn't move. Carefully, I climb into the bed to not disturb him from his rest. Shuffling, I make my way under the covers. I lie down at his side and wrap my arms around him. For some reason, he flinches at the behavior and groggily tries to push it off. When his eyes open, he gives me an odd look.

His voice, raspy from not talking for so long, shakes as he speaks, "Mister Russia, what are you doing? Do you not have your own bed?"

I falter, hurt by his words, "But this is how we have been sleeping since we have shared a room. You love to snuggle with me, do you not?"

"I am sorry, but I have not slept in this manner with you at any point in time. Can you please return to your own bed?"

His lies anger me. "I thought you loved me, Japan! I love you so much, so why do you tell lies of our relationship?"

His face changes to a confused look. "We do not have a relationship at all, Mister Russia. I do not understand why you are acting this way. Please return to your own bed. You are making me uncomfortable."

"Do you not remember all the time we have spent together? Every day I talked about how much I love you! We slept side by side for so long! How could you not remember?!" Rage built up in my chest. "Do I mean anything to you?!"

His confusion turned to words laced with anger on his end. "Mister Russia, please calm down! I am sorry, but I have not done what you are saying! I have been dead this whole time, so it is impossible for me to have done as you are saying! Now, what you did with my body as I was dead, I do not know of. If you truly love me, then you will return to your own bed!"

Rage is converted to a fury that I cannot hold back. I scream at my disobedient love, "That is enough, Japan! If you cannot love me in your wake, then I will bring you back to how you were!" My hands are around his neck before I am even aware of it. His eyes widen in shock as he tries to pry my hands off of him. I return the affection with a tighter grip. I squeeze his neck in a tight embrace while he helplessly scratches my calloused hands. My hands are firm on his trachea. As he tries to breathe in, his voice makes an ugly sound unlike his usual voice like a gentle breeze.

He tries to let out a weak plea to stop, but all that comes out I more ugly noises. His cheeks that had returned to a healthy caramel moments earlier are now becoming pale once more with twinges of blue as he loses air. His mouth is agape like a dead fish, lips now a shade of blue alike to bruises. I squeeze tighter in my passionate rage. Tears trail down his cheeks, the struggle becoming more intense. He pushes with all his strength, but he is at a disadvantage with me being the one on top of him.

His brown eyes dull to the proper shade as he gives up his struggle. The skinny arms that were fighting against me fall down to his side.

"That is better, Japan. Aren't you so beautiful when you are obedient?" I smile at his lifeless body. "You will always be mine, even if you resist. I know that you love me, you just don't know how to express it when you're alive. That is fine with me because I will patiently wait until you learn how to love me as I love you."

I lie back down and pull the covers over us. I push him towards me and wrap my arms tightly around him in a warm embrace. "I love you, Japan. Good night for now, beloved."

-000-

England's POV

Instead of the usual metallic scent of blood filling my nostrils as I awake, I smell something enticing. I snap my eyes open and see that I am in a bed instead of on the ground. _I didn't think he would follow through with it. I figured it was a joke. I'll probably find out what's wrong with the beds sooner or later; I strongly doubt he would give us beds without there being some torment involved._

I sit up in the bed and see a long dinner table with a surplus of food. _This is even bigger than America's thanksgiving dinner._ The roasted chicken attracts me, its delectable smell causing my stomach to rumble with anticipation. I quickly go over to the table and see that he even left plates and silverware for us.

I grab a plate and pile on food until I'm unable to put another thing on. A juicy chicken leg with crispy skin, baked macaroni and cheese, cornbread, roasted potatoes, broccoli casserole, Yorkshire pudding, stuffing, and carrots are packed on. I would pack even more on if it could fit. It's as if Sunday dinner and Thanksgiving had a child. _I sound just like America! I even have the plate to show for it!_

Well, it should be fine for me to eat this much considering I've been starved for ages. _Who knows when there will be food again? I should make an effort to gain as much weight as possible so that I can provide for France and America when the food is gone again._

I take a big bite of the chicken leg. Fatty, savory juices dribble down my chin. Perfectly crisp skin crunches in between my teeth with tender bits of chicken. Spices like rosemary and oregano spread over my palate, adding to the flavor. I swallow and my stomach growls, begging for more. I hack down bites faster than I should with every delicious bite of chicken feeling like heaven. I then use my fork to get some of the broccoli casserole. As I bring my fork to my mouth, a trail of cheese follows. I pinch the end of it and pull the cheese onto the fork. Firm broccoli joined with sharp, melted cheddar melts in my mouth. The fresh flavor of the broccoli and the creamy, fatty cheese are perfect. _I don't think I've ever had food so good!_

I stuff my face until I physically can't eat any more. Even then, I'm still tempted to eat even more food despite knowing that another bite will make me vomit. _I'm sure my stomach can handle a bit more. I need every morsel I can put into my mouth. These other people don't deserve to eat; they haven't gone through the same situation as I have. Besides, my eating excessively will benefit my family later when the food is gone. Yes, I need to eat it all! All of it should go to me and me alone!_

I hear someone stir behind me. I don't care to look back since I'm too engrossed in eating. It doesn't matter to me who's moving around until I see China reaching for a plate beside me.

"Hey, don't do that! This food is all mine!"

-000-

Sealand's POV

Living in a dreamless sleep is similar to death. No thoughts, no feelings, no light, it's just a quiet darkness. For all I know, I could wake up in a new timeline. With Mal taking control of my body, she could destroy me in order to leave my soul wandering aimlessly. If my soul were to leave this plane of existence, she could live in my body and wreak havoc on the world for the rest of that timeline. _She would do something messed up like that. Maybe the plane of lost spirits isn't so bad._

My worries amplify when I hear the voice of Malice herself echo in my head.

"Peter, would you like to find peace?" she asked. For once, her voice didn't sound menacing like it usually does. Instead, it reminds me more of a calming, almost motherly voice despite the ominous sound of the words chosen.

"I would like to live peacefully like before," I say. The tar in my lungs has vanished. "I'm scared for the peace you have in mind, though. Is this another trick?"

"I can give you true peace as you wish. There won't be chaos as you've been experiencing, for I am going to form a utopia for you."

"Now why would you suddenly decide to be nice after tormenting me for so long?"

"Honestly, with you out of the way, I can continue on with my mission. I could destroy you entirely, but it will be to my benefit to keep your spirit happy. I plan to grant you your wish for peace. The only catch is that you can't return to this timeline again."

 _I've been useless in every timeline I've ever tried to fix. Maybe I should just leave this to England. He would be able to fix this timeline, so I can finally return to where I belong. I can finally be happy again. After all, he's probably stopped Mal in several timelines with the watch reset being the interference._

"Please," I murmur with a melancholic strain in my words. "I'm done fighting this battle. I want to go back home."

"As you wish, Peter."

 **-000-**

 **A/N: Oh Peter, I'll be with you. Still, you are the angel that I couldn't kill. I haven't had a proper torture scene nor a murder in way too long. However, there can't be murder at this time due to the sins developing. I've been focusing a lot on Malice and the sins. Don't disregard Malice; she's very important. Travis will also be relevant later, but he's dormant for now. On a different note, it took me a little while longer to publish since I wasn't sure how much of the scene I needed to write for England. I'm still not sure of myself but I think I've written enough to convey the point. Anyways, I'll see ya in the next chapter!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen: Blossoming Flowers**

 **Warnings: Intentional self-harm, hair pulling, misogyny**

-000-

Sealand's POV

As I have many times before, I wake up to the sight of sailboat wallpaper. I rub the crust from my eyes as my legs rub against the blanket. My sheets feel softer than ever compared to the musty old blanket I've been using. I lie there for a while, not physically tired but still incredibly exhausted. My head is buzzing, ants crawl over every inch of my brain while bees slam into my skull. Each one of them litters my brain with panic of the past. All these memories that I've faced in the past have no relevance in this current time, so with these thoughts stuck in my head, I can't reach my itch. Even if I were to share with the world all that I experienced, I would seem even crazier than I already must be. My brain is a broken vase that was knocked over centuries ago, water seeping out while I try to make an effort to glue the fragments together. The flowers will die without the vital water that was contained in the vase and their fate is sealed if I can't seal the larger than life cracks. The flowers grow limp and shrivel as the screaming gets louder. Red petals speckle the bodies of the deceased. The beautiful displays of health are reduced to frail, breaking leaves on the dehydrated plants. The pure lilies have long died, the beloved rose is scattered into millions of pieces, and the rosemary's scent becomes a memory.

Fingernails are burrowed into my scalp, prickles of pain come as I scratch at blond strands. Bunches of them are torn out and start to separate as they fall like feathers. The scratching and pulling continues, beads of blood arise. I don't even bat an eye at the sight of my fingers coated in red; the substance is all too familiar. A scream rips its way out of my vocal chords to break the silence, yet it doesn't feel connected to me despite it coming from my mouth. More scratching causes more blood, more pain, and more hair to fall onto the blanket. _Every one of my hairs should fall out as punishment for failing once more._

The door hits the other side of the wall as it slams opened. Dad's eyes are filled with worry that only increases as he sees me. Even though I see him, he doesn't matter right now. I can't talk to him while I'm being punished. Papa follows shortly after with eyes as wide as saucers.

Wet dribbles escape my eyes as cool red droplets flow from the burning wounds on my head. Every second of pain is well-deserved, every scratch opens up the skin and gives me a reminder of what everyone else has faced because of my actions. Shreds of pain rip the inside of my throat as my screaming gets louder, hot rivers trickling down my cheeks. The rain of red falls onto my blue covers and stains the once clean fabric. _I don't deserve anything that isn't coated in blood. Everything and everyone I've cared about has been covered in blood at some point and it's all because I'm too incompetent to fix my mistakes. Maybe if I grow numb to it, then I'll learn how to bleed in the name of others._

 _Every time blood has been shed for me, I've grown more and more undeserving of others. Every time I watched someone die, I've stood to the side until I became a corrupt murderer. Every drop of blood, every tear shed, every time flesh has been cut, it's been because I am a waste of human life. I hope that they can understand that much, so that I can at least finish this one punishment._

 _Tears are also reflected on their faces, tears shed because of my utter failure to be a good person. They cry because they know their son can never amount to anything worthy of being proud of. They cry because I'm causing them pain; they're in denial of how awful I am, aren't they? They must see me through rose-colored glasses if they think I don't deserve my pain._

For a moment, my punishment stops as they rush to pull my bloodied hands away from my scalp. Their tears are drops of ice as they fall onto me. Papa, being stronger, is the one to pull my hands to my back in a firm grip. My muscles burn as I struggle to get free from his grip. _I'm so weak that I can't do something as simple as break free from his hold on me._ I pull even harder, hot rivers rising to rapids rushing down my red cheeks.

"Let me go, Papa! I need to punish myself!" I scream. His face drops in hurt, but his grip is even tighter than before.

Dad wraps his arms around me as he cries into my shoulders. "You do not need to do this to yourself, Peter! You have done nothing to deserve pain upon yourself."

I cry, "You don't know all the atrocities caused by me! I deserve worse than death!"

Papa, trying not to show his pain, says, "You're talking nonsense. Your behavior is opposite to how you normally act. If you stop struggling, I'll let you go so we can talk this out."

I relax my muscles in defeat, so he lets me go. I resist the temptation to start scratching again and instead decide to act calm in order to not get held down again.

Dad's eyes downcast, his eyes still shiny from tears. He bites his lip and shuts his eyes tightly, probably to keep more tears from spilling. "We did not know you were struggling so much. I never would have thought that you were hurting so much on the inside that you would hurt yourself on the outside." He turns his gaze back to me. "I think we're both wondering when this kind of thing started. You have never done something like this, but we can talk about this after we clean you up."

Dad walks away for a moment and returns with the first aid kit. He cleans the wound and applies gauze around my head, fastening the end with a safety pin.

Before we can actually talk about what happened, everything fades to black. The stress evaporates along with the world around me and I'm left in the dark. _What happened?_

-000-

"Good morning, Peter! It's time to wake up!" Dad calls. I spring up to a sitting position. My heart pounds along with a headache. I put a hand on my head, but I don't feel the bandages from before. Instead, there is only the soft hair on my head. I squint, trying to block the morning sun from my eyes. I look over to Dad and see that he has a tray with breakfast on it.

"I made you breakfast in bed! I figured that a hero like you deserves it!" He puts the tray on my lap. Pancakes are stacked high with fruit toppings arranged to make a smiley face. Instead of regular eggs, there is an omelet in its place. Bacon is cooked to perfection, and the orange juice doesn't have a bunch of pulp floating in it like it usually does.

"I made everything perfect just for you. It's the least I could do for someone who saved the world!" He smiles and gives me a kiss on my forehead. "I'll leave you be while you eat. Feel free to watch some cartoons. I moved the TV into your room so you wouldn't get bored while resting in bed."

"Thanks, Dad, but what do you mean by hero?" I ask.

"Oh, the doctor said you would probably have amnesia. I'll give you a quick explanation, but not much more than that because he said you need to regain the memories on your own. You see, there was a rogue nation that decided she wanted to take the world for herself so she kidnapped a lot of us, including you. You defeated her and we were able to heal the nations she tortured. The only problem is that you have been in the hospital for a long while due to how badly she hurt you. I'm just glad that you're well enough to be home again." _That's not right. It was Mal that caused this, not the person she possessed. Do they even know about Malice?_

As I think on it, the world dissipates once more, everything fading into darkness. _What is with these dreams? Will I be stuck in a loop just like before?_

-000-

The scent of laundry detergent on my blankets isn't what I smell now. In fact, I can't feel my blankets at all. Lavenders tickle my nose as the warmth of the shining sun sleeps on my cheeks. I open my eyes to perfect blue skies with speckles of white clouds. I look up and see that beams of light have seeped down to me from gaps in the tree branches above. Instead of a mattress, it looks like I've been sleeping on a bed of grass with endless beautiful flowers surrounding me. I sit up and see that a girl is sleeping beside me. She looks to be around my age.

Her dark, long hair resembles a burnt log crumbling into cascading ash. The ash drapes over arms resembling a porcelain doll. The girl is clothed in a pale blue dress with white laces decorating the edges.

She sleepily opens her eyes, the color of forget-me-nots, snapping up in surprise when she sees me. "Oh, what are you doing in the family garden? Do I know you?" She tilts her head in curiosity, looking over my clothes. She fiddles with the ribbon on my hat. "Are you a sailor? If so, you look too young to be."

I smack her hand away. "I'm not really a sailor, but I was mostly on a fort in the middle of the sea. Anyways, what's your name?"

She smiles. "My name is Mallory Blackwood. I have seven siblings, five brothers and two sisters. My big sister is already married to one of the De Clare brothers. As a noble family, we are only allowed to marry other noblemen in order to maintain our status. As the last girl of the house, a lot of pressure is put on me by Mama. She insists that I stay inside all the time so that my skin does not get rough and burnt like a peasant. The only place that she lets me stay outside is in the garden here."

I ask, "Why is it that you're allowed in the garden but not anywhere else? It's the same sun in the sky where ever you go, so what's the difference?"

She points up. "It is because of the trees here. They block out most of the sun so I do not have to worry about getting an ugly sun burn." She points up to the dark branches of the tree that have blooming white flowers. "Those white puffs of flowers on the branches are pretty, are they not? I like to look at the flowers often since they grow in the only place I am allowed to be free." She smiles as some of the petals fall with a gentle breeze carrying them to us. "I think I forgot to ask your name. I have been rambling on for the past few minutes."

"I'm Peter Kirkland. I have a big family too with my closest relative being Arthur Kirkland, my big brother. He's kind of a jerk to me."

She puts her pointer finger on her cheek and looks up in thought. "That name sounds familiar. I ponder as to where I heard that name before. I think Papa has mentioned an Arthur Kirkland when discussing political matters."

"Yeah, he's pretty important in politics," I say in a huff and change the subject, "Let's stop talking about our families for now. Is there anything you like to do for fun?"

She shakes her head. "Mama does not give me much to do for myself. It is always her pushing me to be the perfect bride. The only real fun in that is baking, but I am not allowed to each much of what I make for she fears I will grow too fat."

"Your mom sounds awful!"

"Oh, she is only looking out for me. While she may be strict, it is in my best interest I obey her. I would not make a good bride if I was to act upon my desires."

"Why are you so focused on marriage? Don't you want to be more than a bride? You could be a baker, a doctor, or an astronaut. You don't have to live your life for someone else."

Instead of taking what I said into consideration, she looks at me like I'm stupid. "Getting a job is not in the realm of what a woman's role is in society. Who would take care of the children? Aside from that, no one would take a woman seriously if she said she was going to go get a job. They would rather hire a man than take their chances with hiring a woman."

"What year are you living in? Times have changed from the 1800s!"

"I do not know what you are talking about because our current year of 1896 is a part of the 1800s. Has exposure to sea water turned you delirious?"

I tilt my head, brow upturned. "Obviously I'm the crazy one here compared to a girl who lives lavishly but can't do anything except think about boys."

Her brows furrow at my response. She stands up and clenches her fists. "You act as though I have chosen to live this way! This is not of my doing, but it is the fault of the world I live in! If it were my choice, I would choose to be in a role holding lots of power!" She plops down and continues, "I wish that I could hold the world in my hands and mold it into a utopia. In that world, I could be happy."

I give a sad smile. "It's a shame everything is out of our control. I come from a world where I'm wrong no matter how many times I try to fix my mistakes. I have freedom, but I still don't have happiness in chasing my goals. I wish I could relish in peaceful times without the stress time has put on me."

She picks some surrounding flowers and begins to connect them with care until she fashions a hoop of various colors. "Let's try to find our own happiness in this for now. I can show you how to make a flower crown like this, just bring your hands over here." She pulls my hands to her and peruses, her thumbs grazing over with soft touches like satin.

"You have small hands like I do, so I think you can do well with practice. Your first crown may not be perfect, but I find it relaxing to make pretty things." Her eyes shift to the side refusing to meet mine. "If you do not want to, then we do not have to make flower crowns. Boys do not like flowers, do they?"

"Hey, you don't have to fret! I wouldn't mind making flower crowns with you. I need to give myself a break anyways, so feel free to teach me, Mallory."

"You're going to start with something bendable but strong to make a sturdy base." She crawls around for a moment before finding a skinny twig. Mallory hands the twig to me and smiles. "This twig is perfect, bendy and thin!"

I bring the ends together by twisting them and overlapping, fastening them with a blade of stray onion grass. "This doesn't look very good." I sigh in disappointment of the bare branch.

"Well, it is a mere twig. It will look pretty once you weave flowers into the base."

I pick an assortment of yellow and orange flowers not knowing much more of them other than that they're pretty. I loosely wrap stems into each other with little grace. I fumble with it before Mallory takes it.

"If you keep fiddling with it, the crown will fall apart and make a waste of the flowers! For a first attempt, you did a great job. You do not need to make it perfect on your first try. It could take thousands of tries to get it right, but what matters is that you still put in your all."

I cross my arms. "No matter how much effort I put into that crown, it'll still be bad."

Her face saddens. "You should not talk of your work in that way! You should feel accomplished for trying in the first place! Besides, I think it's beautiful in its own way. The only problem is that I hope you do not know flower language with this arrangement of Orange Lilies, Yellow Carnations, and Black-Eyed Susans; the Orange Lilies represent pride and distain, Yellow Carnations representing hatred and rejection, and Black-Eyed Susans carrying the meaning of justice. Luckily, since you do not know me, I know this is a mere unfortunate coincidence."

I scratch the back of my neck, my eyes darting to the ground. "I-I didn't know flowers could have such sour meanings! I'm sorry."

"Oh, it is alright. I presume you would not give me such an aggressive arrangement upon knowing me for so little time unless you felt angered by my first impression which I highly doubt. Now, let's exchange our crowns so we both have a keepsake of the other!" She takes the neat, beautiful flower crown she made and places it atop my head. I return the sediment and do the same.

She takes my hand and holds it tightly. "I know we have not known each other for long, though I feel as though I have known you for ages. I do not know you well, yet my soul feels connected to yours."

I nod. "I feel the same way. Your voice sounds like one I have heard before, yet I can't quite place it."

"It must be the act of God that has brought you into my family garden! Perhaps you and I are soulmates!" She pulls me to her chest in a tight hug, engulfing my nose in her sickeningly sweet perfume.

Instead of pushing her aside, I put my arms around her in a warm embrace. "I don't remember how I got here, so maybe it really is God giving me a blessing. After all the hardship I have faced, it would be truly beautiful if I could have someone like you to comfort me."

"I agree. I have spent my entire life locked away from the rest of the world that lies beyond my unfair family. Even if you are the only person here, I am happy. Please, remind me of your name so I can find you once more."

Before I can speak, my lips move against my will and an unfamiliar voice speaks through my body. "Oh, my dear Mallory, my name is Lucifer."

-000-

Malice's POV

I can already feel the strength of the sins growing. His happiness in this new arrangement makes a perfect fertilizer for the seeds of sin. Three of the six remaining sins have already started manifesting in some of the nations. _Even though this new dream I'm giving him is doing wonders for my project, I pray that his presence in my old memories won't alter them for me. My first encounter with Lucifer shaped who I am today. If he meddled with it, I don't know what the consequences would be._

I cherish those past memories with all my heart. Lucifer is the only person to ever care for me and show the slightest of kindness to a pitiful noble girl treated as a pawn for her family name. _Those awful parents of mine never cared for Mallory. Now, I have someone to love me as the demon of Malice._

It is of utmost importance that I properly sustain the sins. If not for myself, then for Lucifer. As a mere mercenary, he cannot be as close to me as he should be. Despite having yet to gain recognition from him other than during my recruitment as a demon, I have faith that I can become more than a demon fighting against humanity. _Oh, my dear Lucifer, I fight in your name and your name alone. I care not for the conflict of this war spanning over millennia. And, if it means I will one day be your lover, I will fight with all I have._

-000-

 **A/N: I broke my usual trend of displaying several POV's and instead focused on one for now so I could start the foundations of a Malice backstory. I'm pretty tired, but I want this published by the end of the night. I really love this story a lot and support from you motivates me. I would say the most credit for my motivation goes to a close friend of mine in real life. It feels good to be supported with her praise of my work. Anyways, I'll see ya in the next chapter!**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen: Burning Love**

 **Warnings: Minor sexual harassment, disfigurement, miscarriage**

-000-

Russia's POV

I have become accustomed to the stench of a corpse so the smell does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, Japan is much better in this state. I could stroke his oily hair all day, which is what I have been doing for a little while. It feels wrong for my hands to be dry at this point with me constantly running my calloused fingers through his hair. Twisting the strands, rubbing the top of his head, and letting my fingers wander towards his face every now and then is heaven for me. _Ah, you look so beautiful! I could look into those glazed over eyes for ages!_

Oddly enough, neither America nor Germany have made a sound. I am unsure as to whether they are sleeping or if they are frozen in place. _Do they fear my beautiful Japan? While he may be pale as a ghost, he is not frightening like one._

"Oh, Japan, you do not need to fret," I whisper. "Even if America and Germany dislike you in this form, I will still love you regardless. You are much better like this anyways since you cannot say awful things when you can't talk!" I pull Japan to my chest, rubbing circles into his back. "They are not worth your tears, my dear. There is no reason to cry when we are together."

"Oh dear, you are absolutely frigid! Shall I warm you?" I coo, "If this blanket over us is not enough then perhaps we should exchange body heat. I hope you don't mind me taking off your clothes so I can warm you faster." As I start to pull his shirt up, I hear America stir.

"Okay, man, that is the last straw!" he yells. "I don't know how I've managed to tolerate the weird shit you've been doing to him, but you are not taking his clothes off! He isn't even alive so stop acting like it! Besides, I know for a fact that you two are not together. Knowing Japan, he would not want an acquaintance taking his clothes off! Hell, I don't think anyone would want that!"

I falter with my words, "I-I do not know what you are talking about! Japan loves me very much so I should be able to do what I please! He will not mind it!"

He rips the covers off and tries to pull Japan off of me. "You're fucked in the head! Leave him be so he can heal and have a say against this creepy shit!" Tears bud as I hold Japan closer.

"Japan cannot heal without me! I keep him happy and he keeps me happy! He will go mad without my love!"

America shakes his head, continuing to hold Japan by the torso as he pulls. "It's the other way around, Russia! If you really love him then you'll let him get better!"

"No! If he h-heals then he will act odd and reject me! He is obedient and happier when he is unconscious!" I scream, sobs hindering my words. Snot dribbles from my nose and I sniffle.

"The version of Japan you love is all in your head! You're crazy!" Taking advantage of my weakness, he gives a final pull and takes Japan away.

I jump out of bed and tug on America. "Please don't take him away! He's all I have!"

He looks at me with hatred in his eyes. "You don't love Japan at all. The only thing you love is his dead body." He turns away and I let go, unable to keep fighting him. Choked sobs rack my body. My lungs burn while I try to take in a bit of oxygen with each hiccup. I clench the blanket and soak it in my tears. My vision is blurred, but I can still see Japan being forced to lie in America's bed. _What a slut! He only took Japan away so he can have him for himself!_

"Y-You monster! If it's wrong for me to share a bed with Japan then why is it right for him to be in yours?!" He glares at me, rage building up.

"I have to protect him from freaks that think it's okay to lust over a corpse," he growls. "I'm not letting him out of my sight with you acting like a lunatic."

I feel a fire burn in my chest. Anger builds up like steam trapped under a pot's lid. "You are a dirty whore! You are only keeping him away from me because you are jealous of our love! If that is how it is, then you are no better than me!"

His brows furrow at my response. He tucks Japan into his bed before yelling, "I am not the one that has spent the past few days stroking his hair like a maniac! You're obsessed with him, and I'm only keeping him with me to protect him! I know that sharing a bed makes him uncomfortable, but I know he would rather share a bed with his friend than cuddle up with a stranger! Now, you better back the fuck off or there will be consequences." He slips into the covers with his back turned from me. _If he thinks that I am afraid of him then he is dead wrong. He should be fearing me right now! I will make him regret taking away my dear Japan!"_

"Hello, Captives!" an annoying voice bellows.

"Goddammit!" America yells. He sits up in bed and watches the TV. I sit up as well, though Germany does not stir.

"It's been a little while since you've heard my voice, hasn't it? It's been even longer since someone has been tortured, and I'm getting bored of sitting around. I think it's about time I stop holding off. While I can't lay a finger on Russia, Japan, America, and Germany, that doesn't mean I can't indirectly torture them. I bet it would cause great pain to see a loved one suffering, wouldn't it?" _He cannot hurt my darling Japan, but China is not protected from his wrath. He would not dare hurt China!_

"Now, I think it's about time I focus on a nation that has been spared for too long. Without knives, you can't keep killing yourself like before, can you? China, it's about time you start to suffer too." His robotic voice distorts his cackling. _No, this cannot be real! China does not deserve pain!_

"Unfortunately, sleeping gas does not discriminate and everyone in that room will end up falling asleep, though this gas will not last as long as it did when I moved you into different rooms. I'll see you in a moment, China. It'll be very fun for me, not so much for you." The TV turned off, cutting his sinister cackling to a halt. _My poor China does not deserve this! No one but me should be near him, especially not to hurt him! He is mine and mine alone!_

-000-

China's POV

It was as if I had awoken from a simple nap when the gas finally left my system. Unlike my constant cycle of death I have been experiencing, waking up from the sleeping gas feels gentle instead of the heavy soreness all over the body that is experienced upon waking up from death. My arms and legs are slightly numb but otherwise fine. I try to rouse them but find that I cannot move. _What was happening before I awoke? I know I was given sleeping gas, but everything before that is fuzzy._

I open my eyes and see pristine white walls. _A hospital? Why am I in a hospital?_ My question is answered as the cloaked man enters the room with a large bucket. _Oh, I was kidnapped._ After the many years I have been tortured on this Earth, I have become indifferent to these kinds of situations. The younger nations are still squeamish, though I have faced so much that it makes me numb to it all. The callousing of the soul is common among those that have lived as long as I have. _Will I ever die? I have outlived countless humans and have seen the deaths of many nations, yet I still stand. It is as though nothing on this horrible Earth can let me die._

"What do you have planned for me?" I ask. I am not strong enough to fight, nor brash enough to scream insults at him, so I merely give him a dull stare. I am too tired to waste energy on fighting a force that I cannot defeat; lying here obediently is the best I can do in this kind of situation.

Even behind the mask, I can tell he is enthusiastic. He has been squirming with anticipation since he entered the room. His words break as he tries to contain his laughter. "D-Do you know what these a-are?" He chuckles for a moment. "T-These are hot coals! Hot coals! I-Isn't it funny how these are often used in s-saunas?" He pauses again, cackling manically. "Something that usually b-brings people pleasure is being used to give pain! Y-You'll be writhing in pain! Your flesh will melt!"

I smile at him softly. "The thought of my pained face seems to be your heaven. It's a shame you will not see much of it." He stops his snickering to set the bucket down and turn to me.

"What do you mean I won't see much of it?! Burning hot coals on bare flesh is agony!"

I give a condescending glare. "You cannot torture someone who has grown numb to pain. I have been alive for millennia and faced many brutal interrogations at the hands of enemies. My body may scream, but I myself will be indifferent."

"Let me have this!" he screams like a child. "You know what? I was going to ease you into the pain, but fuck you!" He uses metal tongs to pull out a coal and chuck it at me. Ironically, the coal falls off in seconds, leaving me no time to react. It stings, but not enough to warrant a scream. _This man is incredibly inexperienced in torture. Even as a prisoner of war, the one torturing me never lost his temper despite the fact that I had killed hundreds of his men. This man does not even show his face to me, yet he has the nerve to act like I have ruined his life. I do not even know who he is, let alone what I may have done to aggravate him. Surely, he must only be interested in obtaining ransom money under the guise of being someone I may have wronged in the past._

Even without a face to look at, I can tell by his staggered breathing that this is not close to over. _If his first response was to throw a hot coal at me, what comes next? Will he keep throwing coals like baseballs, or will he choose to properly torture me?_ He pulls another burning coal out of the bucket, but instead of throwing it, he approaches me. His walk is now calm and collected, the sudden shift eerie. His hips sway as if he is a fashion model on the runway.

His passive glare is fixated on my reaction to what he plans to do next. Slowly, he moves the coal towards my face, leaving it less than a centimeter away. The heat it radiates is already burning my cheeks.

"It seems as though you are tougher than I anticipated. If that is the case, I must burn more sensitive areas to get the response I desire. Maybe some disfigurement will make your plain face more interesting." He cocks his head slightly before roughly pressing the hot coal into my cheek.

A bloodcurdling scream comes in response. For a moment, my vision goes white as the burning spreads. The coal is still pressed onto my cheek, letting more searing pain connect to my skin. The flesh feels like it's going to cave in and fall into my mouth. He presses harder and the malleable flesh bends like dough. Once he's satisfied, he rips the coal off and the melted cheek is ripped as well. I scream harder, my throat already feeling raw. Blood rapidly pools in my mouth only to pour over my jaw. Sweat drips from my forehead and mixes with the overflow of blood.

"Not so tough now, are you?" He chuckles quietly as he replaces the coal with a fresh one. "Hmm, where shall I place this one?" He looks at my body like a pig on the market. "Ah, your chest would make a lovely canvas." Unlike the first, he quickly presses the coal against the left side of my chest, nipple included.

Once more, my vision flashes white. The sensitive skin quickly melts onto the coal with blood already dripping. My head hits the back of the hospital bed hard when I let out another shriek, changing my sight from white to black for a moment. The man cackles at my pitiful state and presses the coal in further. Everything around me is rapidly spinning when I open my eyes; closing my eyes does not stop the feeling of dizziness. _I have forgotten how awful torture feels. I suppose it has been longer than I thought since I last felt such pain._

"Wouldn't you look perfect with burn scars all over your body? Of course, I'm not satisfied with just one burn on your face." He twists the coal on my chest, shredding the connected flesh, and yanks it off with a final pull. In my peripheral vision is exposed, bleeding muscle. Blood clouds my senses from the searing, dribbling wounds to the pool of sticky blood in my mouth that coat my breaths and lungs. The act of breathing is a miracle in this instance. Where I should have drowned, I am instead wheezing and struggling to catch a clean breath of air. Coughs and sputters splatter it onto the snickering madman's mask. Coughs drain my lungs only for a moment.

I continue to cough, throat becoming sore. Fresh blood emerges from the irritation. In the midst of my sputtering, another burning coal is thrust into my skin. This time, however, the coal is burning directly on my eye. My chest pangs as I let out a strong, agonizing scream. My eye melts into a soup underneath the eyelid and, once the eyelid is obliterated, the coal sinks into the socket. Sheer agony doesn't begin to describe the utter pain I'm in. I jerk my head away only for him to hold my head down as he pushes it even further. My body is quivering, spasms erupting all over me. He only continues to push it in. As he pushes the coal deeper and deeper, a click seems to go off in my brain like an off button. _Who am I?_ Everything snaps to a dull gray. _Wait, who am I?_

-000-

Sarah's POV

When others face hardship in life, they often turn to God in hopes that he will guide you to the right path. Growing up religious and only going to Catholic schools has an influence on a person like me. Even though I've had my doubts over the years, my faith in God has grown since I had to leave my husband, Travis. Certainly, God only hurt me this way in order to lead me back to his light.

With Katherine in her crib, I kneel at my bedside to pray.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. I ask that you guide me on this issue too small to bother God with. I hate the child in my womb, Mary. I cannot support another baby on my own, but I would not dare hurt the one inside me. I love Katherine with all my heart, yet I somehow can't love this one. I'm afraid of what's going to become of me if I do have this second child I can't afford. Many say to give the child up for adoption, but I feel that I will grow attached to the baby once it's born. Please help me with my issues. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen." Satisfied, I stand back up. I sleep peacefully knowing that everything will be alright."

-000-

Beams of sunlight dance on my eyes as my ears are filled with a tiny cry. The sound of the birds singing their morning tune intertwines with the crying. _How did she stay asleep the whole night?_ I pick her up from the crib and she calms down. Assuming she's hungry, I lower the top of my nightgown and bring her to my chest, though she turns her face away.

"Come on, sweetie, you have to be hungry now." I try to pull her towards my breast again, but she keeps squirming. I pull the gown back up and set her down on the changing table to check and see if it's just a messy diaper. Oddly enough, she's completely dry. _She probably just wanted to be picked up._ _All her normal needs seem to be fine for now._

"It's okay, Katie Baby. Mama's here to snuggle you." I sit back down on the bed with her in my arms. While holding her, my heart pumps a little more, the warm fuzzy feeling building up. _How can I embrace motherhood when I have an unwanted child inside me? How can a mother choose one baby over another?_ The tickling warmth is drowned out by dread. A pang of guilt hits me as I look into Katherine's soft, blue eyes. _How could I ever want to get rid of an innocent baby before its birth?_

Something inside my body shifts down, building pressure. I press onto my stomach and the pain gets worse. Before I can figure it out, I realize that my underwear is leaking blood. I put Katherine back into her crib and rush to the bathroom. The blood keeps dripping down into the toilet until a grotesque lump escapes. Curled into a ball, covered in blood, is what remains of my other baby.

Tears stream down my face and mix in with the mess below. I try to hold back my gagging but it's hard when you're seeing an ended life reduced to mush. Silent tears soon become aching sobs. My wish was fulfilled, my problem solved in an instant, but that unwanted life was the price to pay. I wanted to feel relieved, yet I can't stop feeling guilty. _I'm so sorry I wished you away._

With tears clouding my vision, I couldn't see what was behind me. All I feel is warmth and safety. The warmth moves towards my ear and murmurs, "This one was not meant to be. Love the one you already have." Once it was done speaking, it faded like a mist. I smiled and wiped my tears, knowing that God is watching over me.

-000-

 **A/N: I'm sorry for the hiatus. I've been busy with work but now that summer's here I'll finally have a day off. I want Sarah to become a more important character later on but not very important in the grand scheme of the story. Anyways, I'll see ya in the next chapter!**


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